


Wounded

by pastelningen



Category: Dragon Ball Super
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Canon Divergance, Cheating, F/M, Facial, First Time, Fluff, Genocide, God complexes, Infanticide, Insanity, Kidnapping, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, More tags to be added, Oral Sex, References to both manga and anime, Rimming, Selfcest, Smut, Time Travel, Torture, Vaginal Sex, Vegeta despises his future son, Zero Mortal Plan, as he should, blamasu, vegekaka
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:42:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 20,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27291385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastelningen/pseuds/pastelningen
Summary: Trunks’ timeline is in complete danger due to new callous tyrants eradicating all mortals from existence - or in their terms ‘divine justice’. The half breed gathers backup from the future, but it backfires when Black - Son Goku’s evil doppelgänger - destroys the time machine, preventing them from returning to their correct timelines.How will they return? Will they ever return?War, lust, death and betrayal - is this really the outcome of such a scarred timeline?
Relationships: Future Trunks Briefs/Future Mai, Goku Black/Zamasu, Son Goku/Vegeta
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been working on this fic since March 2019 and it’s still not finished :’)
> 
> I still decided to upload most of it anyways! I am continuing this, though! 
> 
> This fic is my alternate version of the Future Trunks arc in Dragon Ball Super. Majority of this will involve my own head-canons, as well as implement ideas from the original manga and anime. 
> 
> Please read tags and warnings!!
> 
> I also apologise for the use of the character’s species in sentences. This fic includes my writing from 2019 which is a lot different from now :’)

Sounds of life and nature echoed around the planet. Ever since the harsh battle with the Androids, tranquillity flourished and reached its peak within the world - despite those few countries dealing with brutality from the callous government.

But alas, the tranquillity had come to a tragic end...

Sudden screams and explosions blasted through the planet in mere seconds as buildings and structures fell to their deaths. The world had fallen apart once again; who or what was the threat this time? Whatever it was had surely gotten what they had desired.

Trunks, a half breed of saiyan and human, rushed out of his home to only watch in horror as his everyday world was torn apart. He watched many civilians scream and cry - even witnessing the intensely graphic sight of mere children being crushed by collapsing structures.

He couldn't take it anymore; watching those who he had once saved be maliciously slaughtered again... it was all too much. Trunks powered up his energy, transforming to the basic Super Saiyan transformation; his hair a luminescent blonde as he was enveloped in a yellow aura, emitting intense levels of power. His hair defied gravity as he pulled out his sword, gazing through the reflection to spot a strange, murky whirlwind of dark energy.

Trunks charged towards his target at an inhuman speed, rapidly approaching the darkness. He came to a halt as he noticed a pair of ominous rouge eyes appearing, glaring at Trunks' aqua irises.

"W-What are you?!" Trunks managed to sputter out as he raised his sword, tactically preparing for an attack.

There was no verbal response. Instead, the whirlwind glared before attacking Trunks in one quick, swift motion. The attack managed to brutally harm the half Saiyan, causing him to cough up blood as he felt a powerful fist hit his abdomen.

Trunks collapsed to the ground; his back and head smashed against an abrasive concrete wall whilst he curled up into some _'foetal'_ position. He groaned in pain as the world around him was engulfed in destructive flames. He whimpered as he felt footsteps approach him. Trunks couldn't feel more ashamed of himself; he couldn't believe that after one single blow, he was already on the ground - everyone would be _utterly_ disappointed in him.

"Your time ends now, Trunks." A mysterious voice purred; their tone almost sultry.

Trunks looked up to a towering figure who was covered by shadows. The flames flickered as the antagonist stepped closer; the shadows pulled open the curtains and revealed its identity. Trunks looked up in shock, extremely overwhelmed at the delirious sight.

_N-No, it can't be... can it?_ Many queries flung around his baffled mind as he glared at the villain's satanic smirk. 

"You've been quite the inconvenience," The mystery man began as his face grew closer, their foreheads inches apart. He could feel Trunks shaking with both flaming anger and fear as chills ran down his spine, creating a subtle shiver.

The creature chuckled before his sadistic expression faded, "It ends now, Trunks."

Trunks screamed in agony as an energy sword pierced through his torso, cutting straight through before the villain abruptly ripped the blade from Trunks' now brutally wounded chest.

The evil entity abandoned the terribly wounded Saiyan to drown himself in his thoughts and feelings - maybe in his own blood, too. He flashed a devilish smirk before completely disappearing.

_What am I going to do now...?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to inform me of any mistakes!


	2. Hope?

The city was mostly rubble. Humanity was at a loss. Only a sparse amount remained from the austere hands of the callous tyrants that destroyed all possible mortal civilisation from spawning.

The desolate Earth reeked of eerie silence that was often disturbed by the harsh destruction of the two comrades. Trunks had fought for many months to restore peace, hoping that one day he would officially wipe out the doppelgänger and kaioshin. His timeline consisted of the evilest, barbaric and callous villains that wiped out many of Earth’s inhabitants. Many loved ones were lost. Many gave in to the vicious antagonists that slaughtered the majority of mankind itself.

Although Cell and the other androids were malicious nemeses; nothing compared to the new tyrants that corrupted the Earth’s lifecycle with pure genocide - which they classified as  _ ‘divine justice’ _ . It brought distraught to those who now had to suffer in hiding, living in repulsive conditions as they fought for their survival.

The antagonists were callous, showing no expression except satisfaction as they conducted their merciless executions. One was an exact replica of the saiyan Son Goku - except he wore darker Gi (and had the soul of Zamasu). His comrade was a malicious, viridescent shinjin who had vacantly murdered his own master to obtain the Potara earrings, allowing himself to travel through time whilst he self-proclaimed himself as Supreme Kai. Both set out for the same goal: wanting to completely cleanse the entire cosmos from the contamination of the vile mortals that existed, all to create their dream utopia.

Today was yet again another tough fight against one of the tyrants. Trunks was badly injured, holding his bleeding torso as he rapidly ran through an alleyway. His body was too weak to push himself faster, his throat dry as he kept going.

“Over here!” a distinctive voice called from afar. He stopped as he looked around, his eyes focusing on Mai, a woman who was strong and held up no matter what the given circumstances would be. Her obsidian locks blew gently despite the humid weather. Her smile was inviting, warming Trunks’ scarred heart.

Mai took Trunks inside the underground bunker, laying him gently on the tainted mattress. She grabbed a wet cloth, placing it on his wounds with utmost care. He winced - the sensation stinging slightly.

“You’re going to be fine Trunks,” She assured him, “You just need to heal.”

“I can’t believe I lost…  _ again _ .” Trunks felt anger surge through his veins, tightening his shaking fists. 

“Hey…” Mai soothed as she held one of his scarred hands that bristled at her soft contact, “You’ve come so far, don’t pull yourself down. Without you, we all would’ve given up and died.”

“H-He just keeps getting stronger. I’m just afraid that Black might become too strong, in which I could no longer hold up a fist up to him.” Trunks sighed: it was the truth. Black could become even stronger than he already is - and he hasn’t even transformed to basic Super Saiyan yet!

“Just rest for now. You must heal in order to face him and you will defeat him this time.”

Trunks could only weakly smile as he rested his head on the propped-up pillows, his eyes lidded before he drifted off into a deep sleep.

“Rest well, Trunks.” Mai pecked his forehead before leaving the wounded Saiyan to rest in peace.

—————————————————————

“Where are you hiding now, Trunks?” The malicious tyrant chuckled, dusting off his bloodied Gi whilst he stood on the broken roof of a desolate office building. Black relaxed himself as he attempted to sense Trunks’ energy but failed due to the half breed being completely weakened, harshly wounded from their previous battle.

“You pathetic mortals just enjoy playing hide and seek!” Black spat hoarsely, shooting a translucent magenta Ki blast at an anonymous building out of vexation. He took a deep breath to compose himself before locking onto his partner’s energy, instantly transmitting himself in front of his comrade currently sitting at a miniature table, enjoying a cup of tea.

“Oh, you’re back so soon?” Zamasu spoke bluntly, placing his teacup on the coaster. “I presume you’ve finally finished them off?”

“Nope!” Black spat angrily, “They’ve began to play fucking hide and seek again!” Black slammed his hands on the wooden railing of the cabin they are resident at.

“I’m honestly not surprised. Such a joke of a species would obviously do these sorts of things, but I'll at least give them some credit for their outstanding hiding skills.” Zamasu chuckled as he sipped his tea, he wasn’t exactly wrong about their excellent hiding abilities.

“It’s not funny, Zamasu. I’m growing sick of those filthy sinners falling out of my grasp.” Black growled through gritted teeth, his tight grip on the railing causing the wood to weaken and snap.

“You know I don’t intend to irk you.” Zamasu smiled, the expression making the Saiyan's anger lower to a moderate level.

“I know, Zamasu,” Black sighed. “It’s that little vermin: Trunks. He’s been a little shit ever since we arrived on this planet. Can’t he just surrender already? I despise those mortals’ consistency.” He buried his head in his hands, stressing. 

Ever since he took over Son Goku’s body, he harboured the undignified needs and urges that the body induced; therefore  _ begging _ him to succumb to all of those primal needs. From the monstrous appetite to the sexual and intimate desires, it took a while for him to master the body he now inhabited. Black wanted to be certain that he had successfully adapted to his new form before he equipped another him; him from a different timeline. Black was physically Son Goku but had the mind and soul of another Zamasu from a different parallel universe to the Zamasu that sat across from him.

“Have some tea, Zamasu. Do you have any injuries that require my assistance?” Zamasu asked as he gestured to the freshly made tea he poured specifically for the Saiyan.

“Nothing life-threatening, just minor scars and bruises, that’s all.” Black hesitantly swallowed as he sat across from Zamasu, taking the porcelain teacup in hand.

“Thank you, Zamas.” Black sweetly smiled, his doughy eyes looking directly into Zamasu’s grey irises that fogged with content. Zamasu was slightly taken aback by his newly made nickname but nonetheless, he liked it.

Zamasu only responded with a light-hearted smile, wordlessly speaking his response to his comrade.

Their timeline was officially hopeless. All faith had slowly begun to fade away. The two malicious tyrants were unstoppable, their strong beliefs and strives were too much for those against it. Trunks felt complete disappointment and guilt towards himself, despising the fact that he would no longer be able to oppose Black and fight for all survivors that are forced to hide in the wilderness with deplorable living conditions.

He needed to stop Black. Although none of the mortals have become acquainted with Zamasu (since he hasn’t fought Trunks nor shown his presence yet), Trunks still needed to save his planet and protect those who are desperate for aid.

Despite his doubts, Trunks needs to act fast if he wants to save his timeline and assure all the planet’s residents a prosperous future.

The real query is; is it actually possible for him to do things by _ himself _ …?


	3. An Accomplice?

Deserted, neglected, empty: the outside world was rubble, contaminated with an eerie silence. Mai had left the underground bunker, cautiously walking up the steps that lead to the surface from the underground hideout. She took in the view of the desolate city that was slowly being illuminated by the rising sun. Coral and cantaloupe clouds added to the already captivating sunrise. As much as Mai wanted to relish the beauty and aesthetically pleasing sunrise, she knew that it would be extremely careless and unsafe for her to stay out in the open - especially when a tyrant such as Black is roaming around.

Mai began her expedition, lurking around the half-collapsed buildings - occasionally climbing over walls of rubble. She spotted a local convenience store, eyeing the shelves that surprisingly contained (what she presumed) useful items. She hurriedly ran towards the establishment, pushing open the doors that were mostly tattered and broken.

Mai began her search. She scanned, examined and observed every single shelf that the store had to offer, attempting to find anything that she felt she would need - and that others could benefit from. Miraculously, Mai came across a couple of boxes that contained pills. She rummaged through the rest and stored those that were necessary. 

“Hopefully these will help you, Trunks.” Mai spoke aloud as she skimmed through the packaging of a type of painkiller. Mai continued to scavenge, finding all sorts of edibles and refreshments. The amount she found was perplexing, wishing she had brought a more sizable bag to luggage.

“I guess this should do.” Mai stuffed a juice carton into her pocket before dusting her hands off. She sighed, looking out the window to notice the sun had officially risen. She decided it was now time to take off before Black arrives…

—————————————————————

“Ka...me….” Black began as he placed his two hands beside him, a boysenberry energy ball forming in his hand.

“Ha...me….” The translucent blast augmented. Zamasu stood adjacent to Black, both on the roof of a desolate building as he watched closely at Black’s actions.

“HAAAAA!!!” Black’s energy blast fired directly to an opposing neighbourhood, the energy being powerful enough to completely disintegrate all the homes - even the survivors who hid in those homes had suffered a severe death from the Saiyan's ‘Kamehameha’ wave.

“Not bad, Zamasu.” Zamasu chuckled as he approached Black, patting his broad shoulders. His skin bristled at his other self’s touch; which he didn’t quite understand  _ why _ . 

Mai quickly fled the store as soon as she heard the blast, evacuating as quickly as possible. She sped down an alleyway; it was too risky to run in the open. She looked back, the sight she saw caused her to immediately freeze. Black had... an accomplice? No! That’s  _ impossible _ ! Mai ran, perplexed; who was this second villain? She couldn’t quite catch full view of him but could only make out his green skin that contrasted with Black’s fairly tanned complexion. The antagonist was much shorter than Black, his head level with the Saiyan’s neck.

“Have you tried this attack on Trunks yet?” Zamasu questioned, his hand still resting on the doppelganger’s shoulder.

“Not yet, I want to completely master it first. It would be foolish for me to commit such an attack without using it correctly.” Black stated as he began to dust off his Gi.

“Shall we return to our cabin?” Zamasu suggested, “I could use another cup of tea.”

“Lets.” Black smirked as he placed two fingers against his forehead, holding out his hand for Zamasu to take - which he quite hesitantly took.

—————————————————————-

“Trunks!” Mai cried as she frantically ran down the steps that led to the hideout, mumbling a small ‘excuse me’ as she made her way through the crowd of survivors.

She burst open the curtains that separated Trunks from others. Mai frantically shook Trunks awake, startling him.

“Mai! What’s wrong?!” Trunks looked directly into Mai’s eyes, reflecting concern.

“Black has an accomplice!”

“WHAT?!” Trunks exclaimed, his screech echoing throughout the bunker. “Who is this bastard?” Trunks pulled Mai onto the mattress, “Did he hurt you?” He began to examine her, making sure nothing had harmed her.

“I’m okay, Trunks. I’m okay.” Mai smiled as she pulled away from Trunks.

“But, who is he?”

“I couldn’t quite catch sight of him. Though, I know he’s shorter than Black. He’s like… another species?” Mai almost questioned her own words, “He looked human, but instead, his skin was a pale green and he had pointy ears.”

“He wasn’t very threatening but we can’t jump to conclusions.”

“So basically,” Trunks began as he shuffled to find comfort, “Black has an accomplice that doesn’t look…” strong?”

“Mhm.”

“That’s odd, though it makes sense. Black has spoken to me once about there being another  _ ‘divine being’  _ in this but I had just assumed he was talking utter nonsense.”

“Divine being?” Mai queried, “He didn’t look too divine, but he had the same earring as Black.”

“Well, I’m stumped for ideas. Maybe it’s a love interest?” Trunks suggested but all Mai could do was laugh in response;  _ a callous ‘God’ like him falling in love? As if! _

“I doubt that asshole could find love! He’s so arrogant that he’d happily fuck himself.” Mai was in a fit of laughter, her head buried in the half Saiyan’s chest.

“True. Maybe it’s another him? But I doubt that.”

Mai wiped her tears, “I guess we’ll find out once he shows himself.”

—————————————————————

“When do you plan on making a move on him? He’s already wounded so it wouldn’t be too difficult.” Zamasu frankly stated as the two comrades appeared in the living area, his hand still laced with Black’s.

“I gain power from pain. The more harm I inflict on this body, the stronger and savage I become.” Black grinned as his grip on the Zamasu’s hand tightened, almost too painfully.

“Zamasu!” Zamasu shrieked as he ripped his hand from the tight grip, feeling lucky that he was immortal. Although Zamasu could no longer feel pain, he would still feel an uncomfortable tingling sensation whenever he was harmed. 

“My bad, Zamasu.” Black chuckled nervously as he began to feel a ping of guilt; he scratched the back of his neck as his cheeks were slightly flushed.

“It’s fine. Next time, loosen your grip.” Zamasu scolded as he examined his hand despite the fact it had already healed.

“Tea?” Black suggested to slightly lighten the mood and dissipate the awkward atmosphere. Zamasu just rolled his eyes in response before heading towards the kitchen. 

_ He’s acting so strange, what could possibly be such a nuisance to him? _


	4. Peculiar

The sun began to rise; a pallet of orange, pink and indigo colours painted the sky. The gleaming rays of the sun poured through every crack of every abandoned building, awakening them for another day in an apocalyptic wasteland. It was peaceful at early hours. No sign of the tyrants that would soon cause havoc across the already suffering planet covered in rubble; the majority of nature corrupted.

Trunks stretched as his eyes slowly fluttered open, the bright rays of torches that lit up the underground bunker prevented Trunks from opening them fully. He yawned as he lazily pulled himself up, stretching out his arms.

“I see you’re awake,” Mai chuckled feebly as she walked through the door, “I hope you rested well.”

Trunks rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Surprisingly, I did. Black didn’t haunt my dreams this time.”

“Well, I’m glad,” She smiled as she took a seat at the edge of the mattress. “I got you some food and water.” Mai handed the half saiyan a cooked steak and a small bottle of water. “I know it’s not much but…”

Trunks slowly took the items from Mai’s hands; “No it’s perfect! Thank you.” He smiled before rapidly scoffing the steak and chugging the water, some dripping from his chin once he finished.

“I really needed that.” He breathlessly chuckled, licking his lips before flashing a small smile at Mai.

“I could tell.” Mai teased. “I went out searching for supplies during the night. Luckily, I wasn’t caught.” She laughed half-heartedly as the memories from last night’s scavenge flashed through her mind.

“I guess I should challenge Black again-”

“No.” Mai interrupted.

Trunks was perplexed by the sudden interruption. “But-”

“You need to rest; you’re still wounded,” Mai sighed, “Just look at you.” She gestured to his scars and his bandaged torso; any sudden move could cause immense damage and severe pain.

“What if Black-”

“No, Trunks.” Mai interjected. “You’re not allowed to engage in battle. Not until your wounds heal. You could die if you went to fight in such a vulnerable state.”

“I guess you’re right…” He agreed in defeat. “But if Black _does_ come out today, then I will take action.” Trunks stated, he was indeed desperate to defeat the callous tyrant that continued to haunt the minds of civilians.

—————————————————————

The two evil dwellers were comfortably accommodated in a moderate sized cabin surrounded by trees, standing proudly on wooden pillars. The mix of teak and dark oak blended evenly with the nature neighbouring them. It wasn’t far from the city yet, not too close either. If any of those repulsive mortals were to acknowledge the location of the two divine beings, absolute chaos would occur and their actions would have all been in vain.

A miniature oak table was propped up on the terrace of the cabin, two wooden chairs at both ends - which the tyrants would enjoy their tea and capture the view as they sat comfortably. A porcelain tea set was laid out, resting on a white lace tablecloth. Zamasu sat at one of the chairs, relishing the beguiling view of nature itself. He was slightly startled by a yawn that entered the terrace. His head quickly turned to see a half asleep saiyan scratching the back of his neck, wearing nothing but his white briefs.

“What are you doing up this early?” The kaioshin asked as he focused his gaze on the teacup resting on a coaster in front of him.

“I could say the same for you,” Black softly chuckled. “Am I bothering you?”

“No, not at all.” The kaioshin smiled as he gestured to the seat across from him - which Black took.

“You look extremely worn out. I thought the battle was a simple task?”

“It was,” The saiyan ran his fingers through his ebony locks, “It’s just the bed I sleep in is quite uncomfortable, and whenever I roll on my side, it always hurts.” The saiyan sighed as he gestured to the obvious cut in the side of his sturdy torso - _how did I not notice that?_

“I thought you only had a few scrapes and bruises? Not a massive slice on the side of your chest!” Zamasu yelled hysterically. He had completely risen from his seat, his arms flailing as he frantically screeched at the saiyan.

“You could’ve died!” Zamasu was beginning to feel angry tears pool at the edges of his eyes, daring to fall. The saiyan knew how sensitive the kaioshin could be - since they were the same person after all.

“Our plans would all be for nothing without you!”

“Zamasu…”

“What if Trunks did kill you?!”

“Zamasu There’s no nee-”

“I would be all alone and-”

“ZAMASU!” Black screamed, sending the sensitive kaioshin to a halt.

“It’s only a cut, nothing serious,” Black chuckled in an attempt to calm the hostile shinjin.“If it helps, you can heal me.” The saiyan held his hands up, playfully surrendering.

“You cause me so much worry.” Zamasu mumbled as he made his way over to the saiyan, his hands hesitantly hovering over the wound. The kaioshin closed his eyes as he relaxed himself, releasing energy from his hands that instantaneously healed the saiyan; looking as if nothing had tainted the fragile skin.

“Better?” Black teased with a childish pout, slightly irking Zamasu. 

“You should’ve wished for immortality like I did.” Zamasu spat as he took a seat again.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?” Black queried before pouring some tea into his cup - Zamasu only responded with a subtle headshake.

“Next time, inform me once you are seriously injured or harmed, even if it’s only a bruise.” Zamasu commanded, eyeing the onyx eyes of Black.

“Whatever you say…” Black trailed off, not expecting his comrade to care so much about his injury and the mere fact that he didn’t inform the kaioshin.

They both drank their tea in silence; no one dared to speak. Zamasu felt ashamed. He had shown Black one of his immense vulnerabilities; what did his comrade think of him now? 

Although Black had the mind and soul of Zamasu, he came from a completely opposite timeline. His life was different but still similar. He still trained under Master Gowasu and had the exact same idea of the completely justified annihilation of mortals. But this Zamasu was emotionally stronger; he was extra cautious when trusting anyone - even Gowasu.

On the other hand, the Zamasu sitting across from him had a different upbringing. This Zamasu had an abrasive rival that holds an extensive grudge against Zamasu - since the kaioshin earned the place as next Supreme Kai whilst his rival didn’t. Thanks to this nemesis, he had dealt with these persistent vermin toying with his emotions, causing his vulnerable persona to blossom. Nothing was more satisfying to Zamasu than to completely wipe that irritable smirk on his nemesis’ face by slicing his torso open, enjoying the view of the other side through the colossal hole in his chest.

Both comrades enjoyed their tea in silence, relishing the tranquillity that would be disrupted by the battle soon to commence. There were no words spoken. No small gestures or expressions - just silence.

Black left to dress himself, tightly tying his red sash around his waist as he glanced at his appearance through the bathroom mirror.

He smirked before darkly whispering to himself; “I can’t wait to kill you with my bare hands, Trunks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my head canons for Zamasu is his sensitivity. He’s easily offended, hurt, and vexed by any little thing that disadvantages him. 
> 
> And Black’s injury definitely would be a huge disadvantage to their plan of justice.


	5. Black’s Plan

Humidity took over. Tranquil clouds roamed around the vibrant sky. That was until a loud crash echoed from the distance, frightening the underground survivors. The crash was a result of two office buildings collapsing, clashing together as they dropped dead. Unfortunately, a family of civilians were crushed by the falling concrete; only a mother was left.

A malicious silhouette appeared in the clouds of rubble, a callous smirk already indicating her fatal annihilation. The figure dramatically swept away the smoke with an ominous Ki sword, the vibrant pink radiating the stench of death. She began shaking, completely frozen in her place. Graphic images of slaughter flashed through her mind as she began to sob, begging for some form of rationality.

“As if your cries would change my mind,” The saiyan chuckled as he approached the immobilised mortal, “You’re all a pathetic species.”

“P-Please… I beg of you…” the woman whimpered as she felt the saiyan lift up her chin so that she was staring directly into his onyx eyes.

“You filthy sinners are extremely stupid. You think that if you resort to begging you can be rid of your death sentence? Please!” Black scoffed before spitting on the woman’s face, “My accomplice and I are doing your species a favour - as well as this planet. You’ve caused so much harm to the world you inhabit and yet you’re all completely oblivious to it, such reckless savages.”

Time froze as the saiyan penetrated through her chest with his sword, the smirk never leaving his face as her screams echoed through the whole planet. He tossed the corpse away carelessly, showing no interest in where it landed.

“Pathetic.” Black spat before levitating into the air, floating above all the deserted buildings. Nothing in this world remained except many abandoned buildings and scarred towns, cities, countries: everything was practically in ruins. A malicious smirk was plastered on the Saiyan’s face as he glanced around, admiring the work of him and his comrade’s cleansing. He spat on the concrete surface before instant transmitting to his cabin, appearing adjacent to Zamasu.

“There isn’t much left of those sinners.” Black stated which caused a gasp from Zamasu; the shinjin had been completely oblivious to the Saiyan’s presence.

“Don’t scare me like that!” Zamasu scolded, “I almost spat out my tea!”

“Alright! Alright!” Black laughed as he held his hands up to  _ ‘surrender’ _ to the now standing kaioshin.

“You’re an asshole,” Zamasu scoffed before placing his teacup on a coaster, sitting back down afterwards. “Have you disposed of him yet?” The shinjin queried as he watched the saiyan doppelgänger sit across from him, slouching in his chair as he folded his arms.

“Not yet,” Black answered, sitting up. “But I have a plan.” He smirked before placing an envelope in front of Zamasu, gesturing it towards him.

“And this is supposed to be your master plan?” Zamasu raised a brow before taking the envelope, opening it slowly.

“You do realise it only takes a few seconds to open an envelope, right?” Black scoffed; half sarcastic, half impatient.

“You’re so impatient, I’m starting to wonder if you actually are another me.” Zamasu smirked before removing the letter from the envelope.

Black watched his comrade scan the letter, thoroughly inspecting it. He looked utterly repulsed as he tossed it onto the table, quickly wiping his hands on his clothes.

“What’s wrong? Did you see a bug or something?” Black bluntly asked as he waited for his comrade to respond. 

“No, it’s the fact that those filthy mortals have probably tainted that letter with their disgusting hands,” Zamasu practically gagged at his own words as he realised what he had just touched. “Burn it.”

“Did you even read the letter?” Black scoffed, taking the letter away from the repulsed god. The tyrant unfolded the letter as he began to read its contents.

_ ‘To anyone out there who receives this: _

_ If you’re in need and are desperate for aid, you’re in luck. There’s an underground place filled with necessities, along with many others that will be here. We’re also working together to defeat Black - including Trunks himself!’ _

“And there’s also coordinates that lead to the address.” Black smirked at Zamasu - which the kaioshin only responded with his signature blank stare.

“What are you getting at?” Zamasu asked, his voice being a soft demand.

“Well, you’re going to visit this place and find out what those barbarians are hiding,” Black spoke before adding, “And I know for definite that Trunks will be there.”

Zamasu looked utterly repulsed, his facial expression reflecting how ridiculous this plan was - why was a god such as he going to  _ ‘hang’ _ with a bunch of mortals? How unacceptable!

“Listen Zamasu, before you make judgement,” Black began as he stood up, leaning against the railing of the terrace as his back faced Zamasu. “If I was to go, it would undeniably cause havoc. Whereas, if you go… they won’t know who you are.” The saiyan looked over his shoulder and grinned wildly at Zamasu.

The kaioshin’s face slightly flushed as he looked down, twiddling his thumbs as he began to have a mental debate.  _ Would this really work? _


	6. The Letter

The night slowly fell. Musky clouds engulfed the derelict city as the subtle sound of the wind whispering passed through in the background. The sky was cloudless, only dimly lit stars were scattered across the twilight sky.

Mai had just returned from another scavenge; this time she sought for medical supplies since Trunks had caught some kind of cold - nothing too serious. She peered through the tattered, shamrock curtains, catching sight of Trunks reading… _a_ _letter?_

“What have you got there?” Mai asked as she took a seat next to the half saiyan; her eyes examining the tainted paper.

“It’s a letter,” He responded. “Something about a meeting place.” The half saiyan passed the letter onto Mai, watching her as she read its contents.

“Are we going?” Mai asked before sitting next to Trunks, her weight causing the mattress to slightly sink. 

“Well... all the others are wanting to go,” He shuffled closer Mai. “And also, those who are going will need me to protect them… just in case.” 

“You honestly believe Black would show up?” Mai queried with a raised brow, “You’re starting to get paranoid.” She chuckled. 

“You never know, Mai. Anything could happen.” Trunks assured Mai, and he wasn’t wrong. Black could  _ easily  _ invade the place and kill all of the survivors who had held out for so long.

“I’ve decided to go, Mai.” Trunks smiled before cupping her gloved hands, “Will you join me?” He almost begged. He couldn’t leave her alone - especially not whilst Black is roaming around. 

“Since you insist,” She smiled back. “I’ll go.” 

“We leave tomorrow night.” The half breed instructed before pulling Mai into a hug - ignoring the slight pain in his torso. 

“Tomorrow night it is…” Mai trailed off before quickly realising: “Trunks! You’re injured! You seriously believe you can protect them when you’re in a state like  _ that _ ?!” 

“Mai,” Trunks cupped Mai’s face, his thumbs gently stroking her erubescent cheeks. “I’ll be fine. If Black does come, I’ll stall him until all of you get to safety.” 

“I promise.” Trunks whispered. 

“But I’m staying with you at  _ all  _ times.” Mai added as she rested her head against Trunks’ chest.

—————————————————————

“So, will you do it?” Black spoke as he stepped out the door; entering the terrace.

“I’m still thinking,” The kaioshin mumbled in annoyance. “Give a God some space to think.” His voice was a cold demand that didn’t faze the saiyan one bit. 

“You are going, Zamasu.” Black smirked as he watched Zamasu face him with - what was supposed to be - an intimidating glare. 

“Just make me some more tea, mortal.” 

Those words irked the saiyan. Although Black was  _ physically  _ a mortal, he was still a  _ God!  _

“That made you quiet. Now, I can finally think in peace without your incessant pestering.” The kaioshin chuckled before feeling Black’s hot breath against his neck; causing Zamasu to freeze. 

“I suggest you refrain from addressing me as the term  _ ‘mortal’  _ before you regret it.” Black growled. His voice is deep and sultry, making Zamasu shiver. 

“I’m immortal, you can’t possibly make me fear you.” Zamasu retorted, although even with immortality, he still felt insecure. 

“Trust me, I wasn’t thinking of hurting you.” He purred into Zamasu’s ear before walking out the door, leaving him bereft. 

_ Filthy Bastard! _

Was a God such as  _ he _ really going to go  _ ‘undercover’  _ and associate with mere  _ mortals _ ? It was utterly disgusting! But he had to remember; The Zero Mortals Plan won’t commence by itself... 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, inform me of any mistakes! :)


	7. Going Undercover

The night sky had finally set, replacing the once vibrant blue with a cloudless indigo. The crescent moon watched over the remaining inhabitants as it illuminated the planet. It was peaceful for a while; crickets were audible and a soft wind blew gently on the trees engulfing the two tyrants’ cabin.

“The time couldn’t be riper for our plan to commence,” Black smirked before holding his hand out for the shinjin to take. “Ready?”

“Let’s just get this over with.” Zamasu scoffed before tangling his fingers with the false Saiyan’s.

It was a matter of seconds before they instantaneously appeared in front of an intimidatingly tall building. The two comrades examined the site. They were located in an alleyway, standing in front of a metal door that seemed to have received quite a battering over time.

“Are you ready?” Black softly whispered as his arms snaked around the Mai’s slim waist, his head resting on Zamasu’s shoulder.

“I-I’m ready,” Zamasu managed to stutter out as he felt Black’s hot breath slightly tickle his neck, “But you are going to pay me back for this.”

“Of course, Zamas,” He chuckled against Zamasu’s skin that bristled with each touch. “I’ll do anything if it means to praise your  _ divine _ and  _ godly _ self.” Black’s voice was almost a soft purr as he toyed with the tips of Zamasu’s ears.

“Alright, Zamasu; you can stop now.” Zamasu managed to speak as he felt his face grow hot.

“Just don’t mention anything about me or your immortality,” Black reminded as he pulled away, “To them, I’m your worst nightmare.”

Zamasu watched as the tyrant teleported himself back to their cabin - not before flashing the kai a flirtatious grin. Zamasu swallowed sharply, clearing his throat as he made his way to a metal door. He examined the graffiti, feeling a sense of nausea at the fact that humans disgrace such parts of their world.

He took out a few tissues he had brought, covering his hands with them before opening the door, revealing what seemed to be an endless staircase. Zamasu sighed before making his way down, hearing voices slowly ascend in volume as he grew closer. Zamasu took a deep breath as he edged closer, coming to a halt as he reached a second door - which was far more wrecked than the first.

This time, the voices were more audible. He could hear the sickening sounds of laughter and cheers roaring from behind the door. His hands shook with anger and nausea as he reached out to the handle - his pale green complexion contrasting with the rusty copper.

He stopped for a second, remembering to remove the Potara from his ear and storing it in his pocket. His identity would be completely obvious if he had kept  _ that  _ on.

Zamasu swallowed sharply before slowly pushing open the door, disgusted by the view before him. He seemed to be in some sort of  _ ‘bar’  _ as he noticed a rotted, wooden isle with stools - as well as the stench of alcoholic beverages that leaked from the majority of mortals’ mouths. 

He was surprised that mortals could intoxicate themselves at a time like this!

_ Disgusting.  _ Zamasu had to hold back the gag as he looked around for Trunks. Surprisingly, no one seemed to be bothered or interested in the kaioshin’s sudden appearance - except for the  _ oh-so-curious,  _ Mai. 

“Trunks, look.” She nudged the half breed and gestured towards the strange man. 

“Hey! You!” Trunks called out; causing everyone’s attention to aim towards Zamasu’s direction. 

“ _Me_?” Zamasu asked, hiding his inner anger. How _dare_ a mere mortal address a _God_ in such a disrespectful manner! - Do these vermins know the basic courtesy of how to treat _Gods_?!

“Yes, you,” Trunks chuckled. “Don’t feel afraid, we’re all on the same team here.” 

Zamasu had to stifle his laughter at the mortal’s talk of being on the same team. As if a divine being such as Zamasu would team up with one of the biggest sinners of all time!

The kaioshin cleared his throat before heading towards Trunks.  _ Remember, Zamasu, remember the Zero Mortal Plan. All you need is information, nothing else! Black will owe you his life for this!  _

“You called?”  _ Play nice, Zamasu. You can execute him later.  _

“I haven’t seen you around here. You don’t look exactly  _ human-like. _ ” Trunks eyed the kaioshin with playful suspicion. Zamasu  _ was _ the odd one out due to his green complexion and pointed ears - not to mention his very formal attire. “You almost look like a Supreme Kai.” He laughed along with Mai. 

Zamasu chuckled, “What are the odds of that?” The kaioshin was beyond irritated now, he could feel himself ready to  _ snap  _ at any sudden moment. 

“All jokes aside, where exactly are you from?” 

_ Is he actually being serious?!  _ “I’ve just been travelling around different planets; I have no specific origin.” Zamasu smiled - obviously a fake one. 

“You like travelling?” Mai queried. The kaioshin was giving Mai all the wrong signals - yet… she found him to be quite attractive…

“I only travelled due to that evil… what was his name?” Zamasu pretended to think before snapping his fingers, “Black! Yes, that was him. He had already destroyed my home planet.” 

“Black was-”

Mai cut Trunks off, “I thought you said you had no origin?” The woman was highly suspicious of him now. 

_ Curse you, woman.  _ “It’s not  _ exactly  _ my home planet. I had spent so much time there it felt like home.” 

“Like I was saying,” Trunks began as he slightly nudged Mai out of the way - of course she felt slightly offended by this, but didn’t say anything. “You said that you’ve been running from Black. So... why did you come here?” 

“I thought he wouldn’t track me down… but he’s here. I came to this place since I heard noises - as well as hearing stories of a hero named Trunks.” Zamasu felt utterly repulsed, complimenting the mortal he loathed the most. 

The kaioshin desperately wanted to end the conversation already. “Is there a bathroom?” Zamasu asked.

“Right over there,” Trunks gestured towards a rusted door with a rotted toilet sign. 

Zamasu excused himself before heading over towards the filthy facility. He wrapped his hand in tissues before locking himself in the bathroom - disgusted by the revolting smell. 

He had to calm himself before locking into Black’s energy, sending telepathic impulses to the saiyan in an attempt to communicate with him. 

Conversely, Mai explained to Trunks about her suspicions. She  _ insisted  _ that there was something peculiar about the anonymous man.

“He just seems so… strange…”

“Mai, just because he isn’t human-”

“It’s not that, Trunks.” Mai’s voice was cold and irritable - completely out of character.

“Then what? What is it?” Trunks’ voice sounded almost hurt at the girl’s sudden outburst. 

“You know what, it doesn’t even matter. It’s probably nothing that you’d care to understand.” Mai walked away, her back facing Trunks as she left. 

Before he could stop her, Zamasu returned. 

“Is something wrong? I understand that I’m not human, but staring is quite rude.” Zamasu said.

Trunks cleared his throat. “It’s nothing.”

Zamasu raised his brow but didn’t comment any further. “So, how do you plan to defeat Black?”  _ Hopefully, I can get somewhere. I’ve already wasted too much of my time here.  _

“Well, I decided to retrieve help from the past.” 

_ Time travel? So, this mortal believes that committing one of the biggest taboos would benefit him?  _ “And you’ll accomplish that how?” 

“By using a time machine my mother created, before Black…” Trunks began to tear up. 

_ Oh, for goodness sake! _

“Before Black killed her,” He sniffled. “I saw it before my very own eyes. I’ll never forget it.” 

As much as Zamasu wanted to laugh at Trunks’ misfortune, he refrained from doing so. “I’m sorry for your loss.” The God cringed at his own words.

“It’s fine. We’re all going to defeat Black, even if it means to sacrifice one of us!” Trunks spoke with triumph, causing the others around to cheer for him. 

“Well, I wish you all good luck.” The kaioshin chimed in - the  _ ‘you’ll need it’  _ part was cut out for obvious reasons.  _ These mortals think that they could seriously defeat a strong being such as Black?  _ The thought made Zamasu chuckle. 

“Is something funny?” Trunks queried. 

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

—————————————————————

As the clock struck midnight; Zamasu, Trunks and others left the place, exiting through the extremely long staircase. 

“It was fun… um…” Trunks tried to remember the shinjin’s name. His eyes scanned Zamasu’s face in order to form a name best suited for him - but Zamasu interrupted before he could take a wild guess

“It’s Zamasu.” The kaioshin bluntly spoke, not bothering to turn and address him. “I’ll be off now.” Zamasu stated before he almost took off. The sooner he can leave, the better. 

“Wait, Zamasu. Come join us!” Trunks insisted.

“No thank you, Trunks. I already have somewhere else to be. Now, if you excuse me.” 

And that was it. Zamasu had fled into the night sky, not telling any of those pests where he was heading - or if he’d return. 

“See?” Mai stated, causing Trunks to quickly spin around, his blue irises staring into her onyx eyes. “He  _ is _ strange!” 

—————————————————————

There was a small breeze as the subtle sound of late-night nature played sweetly in the background. The moon only illuminated the sky as the dimly lit stars watched over. 

“Black!” Zamasu called as he headed towards the roof of a desolate office building, landing across from the doppelgänger. 

“You look worn out.” Black tease; Zamasu only responded with a glare. 

“You have no idea of how much  _ shit _ I’ve been through.” Zamasu growled - his bottled-up anger close to releasing.

Black walked up close to Zamasu, his arms snaking around his waist, “You can tell me all about your experience when we get back.” 

—————————————————————

The Resistance headed back towards the underground shelter; all of them huddled together in hopes of protection as men covered the women and children whilst Trunks led the way. Mai and another soldier walked adjacent to Trunks, holding their guns by their sides, ready to fire at any moment.

“Mai?” Trunks spoke to break the awkward silence between them. Mai was looking down at her feet, watching each of her steps. “Mai? You aren’t mad at me, are you?” His voice was soft as he edged himself closer, their shoulders almost touching. 

“I’m not mad, Trunks.” She admitted before looking up at him. “I was frustrated, that’s all.” Her tone was slightly different to her regular voice, but nonetheless, Trunks believed her words. 

“Talk once we get back?” He suggested. 

“Sure.” Mai bluntly responded as the resistance grew closer to their destination. 

The crescent moon guided The Resistance to their  _ ‘home’,  _ watching over their every step as the wind whistled sweet nothings. 

Hopefully, Mai’s  _ normal _ self will soon return in the morning…


	8. Mai’s Apology

Trunks and his soldiers stood in front of the shamrock curtains, guarding everyone as they entered the hideout in bundles.

His mind drifted; he couldn’t stop thinking about Mai’s peculiar behaviour earlier; her sudden outburst was completely out of character. It hurt Trunks. Mai was everything to him; one of the main reasons why he keeps fighting. Whatever is on her mind, Trunks would do absolutely  _ anything _ to aid her problems - major or minor. 

“Commander Trunks?” A small voice and tap on the shoulder broke him out of his trance. 

He removed his gaze from the cloudless, twilight sky, looking down at the shorter soldier. “I’m sorry, got lost in thought there.” He chuckled awkwardly before heading inside. 

“All clear.” A soldier’s voice echoed in the background. 

Trunks headed through the second pair of tattered curtains, the light of the flames almost hurting his eyes. Once his eyes had adjusted, all he could see was families huddled in dirty, ripped blankets, and soldiers sleeping on each other’s shoulders whilst they held their helmets protectively in their laps. 

Trunks had to be careful as he stepped over sleeping civilians, making his way to the third and final pair of curtains that separated his sleeping quarters from the others. Trunks was greeted by Mai, who was lying comfortably on the mattress in her undershirt and jade trousers. 

“Mai?” He called to get her attention. 

She stretched before sitting up, smiling at the half breed. “Sit down, Trunks. It's been a long day.” Mai patted a spot next to her - which he didn’t hesitate to take. 

“Is everything okay, Mai? You seemed upset with me earlier.” He decided to question her feelings first, watching her muster a reply as he leant back against the decaying wall. 

She sighed, “I’m not upset at you,” Mai clarified before continuing, “It’s that Zamasu guy. There’s something...  _ weird  _ about him…” 

“Well, I’m glad you’re not mad at me, Mai.” Trunks bravely shuffled closer to her; his face inches away from hers. “I was worried that you were.” 

She lovingly smiled as she cupped his face, “I could never be mad at  _ you _ ! Not after everything you’ve done for me.” 

He could only chuckle weakly as the closeness between the woman took a toll on his confidence. Trunks could feel the heat rise to his cheeks as the two stared into each other’s eyes, waiting for one of them to make the next move. 

Mai playfully rolled her eyes, sighing before boldly pressing her lips against his - her hands snaking around his neck as she hoisted herself onto his lap. She moaned against his lips as she deepened the action. 

Trunks was taken completely off guard; his eyes widened, his face burned a scarlet red and his breath hitched. He quickly returned the kisses - only at first was he slightly awkward at the action before learning what to do. He wrapped his arms around her small waist, pulling her flush against his chest - grunting slightly as she grinded against him. The two continued to drown themselves in ecstasy, only small moans and groans escaped the couple during their small make-out session. 

Both breathlessly pulled away, their breathing slightly laboured as they examined each other’s reactions. Mai couldn’t help but smirk as she felt Trunks poking against her thigh, audibly swallowing as he attempted to get up. 

“Stay,” Mai seductively whispered, “There’s no need to be shy, Trunks.” She planted kisses on his neck; his body stiffened beneath her. 

“Mai…” Trunks breathed into her ear whilst he wrapped his arms around her waist. His heart beat rapidly; he couldn’t believe that he was finally getting somewhere with the love of his life. Trunks couldn’t deny that he had lusted for the women before, and battling threats to their timeline helped rid his mind of those thoughts.

Mai couldn’t help but admire the usually brave hero Trunks’ nervousness; this was  _ definitely  _ his first time being so intimate with another. She pushed him down onto the mattress, straddling his hips. Mai seductively bit her lip as she began to remove her white vest, slowly pulling it off to tease the half saiyan. 

Trunks was extremely nervous now; this was the first time he would actually see another woman nude. Although Trunks had pictured Mai fully exposed in his mind, he still couldn’t help feeling anxious to see her. All of this seemed so  _ intense _ … He didn’t expect it to be like  _ this! _

The woman tossed away her vest, her breasts fully on display for the half breed to see. She noticed Trunks attempting to pry his eyes away since he didn’t want to be disrespectful. “You can look, Trunks,” she whispered as she began to unbutton his denim jacket. “I don’t mind.” She smirked as she slid a cold hand up his shirt, caressing his toned stomach. 

He gasped at the coldness, his face being a deep scarlet at this point. Trunks bucked his hips up slightly to relieve some of the ache in his groin - the sight of Mai’s breasts weren’t helping him in the slightest. Seeing Mai completely dominate him was undeniably arousing – even though he had pictured  _ him  _ being the dominant one.

Mai trailed her hand down to Trunks’ obvious bulge that strained against the fabric of his pants, cupping it tightly with her hand, causing a noise akin to a moan to escape him. She skilfully unzipped his jeans, setting his erection free. The slightly cold air hit against the sensitive appendage as it slapped against Trunk’s abdomen.

“Mai…” He breathed as she lowered her head down, taking him into her mouth at a teasingly slow pace. The warmth of her mouth wrapped around his cock was a feeling that he’d never experienced before.

Her tongue swirled around the sensitive tip, occasionally dragging through his weeping slit. Mai could feel Trunks bucking his hips up as he moaned quietly into his hand. She instantly knew he was getting close; but she didn’t want him to finish yet.

Trunks groaned with dissatisfaction as she pulled away; thin strings of saliva attached her lips to his tip for a brief moment before tearing away. “Don’t worry, Trunks.” She purred as she straddled his lap, “You’ll get your release soon.” Mai lined Trunks up to her leaking entrance. 

“Mai...” He breathed as his tip came in contact with Mai’s heat. “We don’t have… I don’t want to get you-”

Mai cut Trunks off with a short kiss; “Don’t worry about that right now…”

“But-” He was cut off by his own moan as he felt Mai engulfed him completely. It was so tight around him; her walls clamping him tightly as she slowly began to move.

“Trunks,” She moaned as she gradually began to bounce on him. Mai watched his face; his eyes screwed shut and his cheeks were flushed, frantically twitching as her pace quickened.

“M… Ma… Mai!” Trunks moaned aloud as pulled out of her almost violently before jerking himself to completion. When all energy drained from Trunks’ body, he fell limp on the mattress, breathing heavily.

Mai was utterly disappointed at how quickly he came. Her frustration caused her to abruptly pull herself off from his lap. “I’m going to clean up,” Mai stated before heading out the chartreuse curtains, flashing a quick glance at the dishevelled half breed.

Trunks laid like a starfish as he stared at the concrete ceiling, his mind still foggy from the ecstasy. He sighed as he wiped a palm across his forehead, pressing it against the small beads of sweat. Some strands of his sapphire hair stuck to the sweat.

_ Maybe I should join her… _


	9. Back To The Past

Morning made its presence with the sound of birds chirping and the colour palette of the sky and clouds transitioning to a myriad of pastel pinks and blues - as well as the sun piercing through the cabin’s curtains, the gleaming daffodil rays shining into Zamasu’s squinting eyes. 

He sighed with content before stretching out, rubbing his eyes as he woke up. He felt the pleasurable tranquillity as he looked up at the frozen fan that hung from the oak ceiling, smiling with content as he relished in the fact that the Zero Mortal Plan was close to completion. He and his comrade would rule as the most supreme Gods for eternity without a single blasphemous mortal in sight!

Zamasu slipped out of his daydream as he realised he should be waking up by now. He grumbled under the white bed sheets before yawning as he put on a robe, exiting his room. 

“Zamasu, what in the world are you doing?” Zamasu asked as he noticed his comrade rushing to the bathroom. 

“I need the bathroom; what else do you think I’m doing?” Black scoffed, looking as if he were hiding something. His face was flushed, his spiky hair completely dishevelled and his hands held his crotch as he stumbled towards the bathroom. 

Zamasu eyed him suspiciously, about to comment. 

“I’m going to the bathroom now!” Black cried out before slamming the door, leaving Zamasu perplexed.

_ What in the Gods is wrong with him? _

—————————————————————

Trunks was abruptly woken up by the sound of a child crying. He irritably rubbed his eyes before something warm snuggled against his chest. He held himself up on his elbows, looking down at the sleeping figure: Mai. His face burned as he remembered what had happened last night - as well as the fact that they’re both stark naked. 

“Trunks?” Mai mumbled as she sat up, rubbing her eyes. “What’s that noise?” She groaned before falling back on the pillows, her breasts almost showing.

“It’s just a child crying,” He answered before turning on his side, resting his cheek on his hand. “You can go back to sleep; I’ll deal with it.” He began to slowly get up before Mai’s hand gripped his wrist and pulled him back into the covers. 

“Stay, Trunks.” She whispered before snuggling up to his chest. “I just want to make this moment last because you never know, it may never happen ever again.” It hurt her heart to say those things, but death was inevitable at this point. 

“I promise you, Mai, that I  _ will  _ defeat Black and restore peace to our timeline.” Trunks spoke triumphantly before his smile faded. “There’s also something else I need to tell you…” 

Mai sat up, the blanket that had once covered her chest had fallen. “What is it, Trunks?” Her voice quivered slightly. 

Trunks couldn’t help but blush at the exposed woman, “It’s just…” He trailed off as he began to get distracted.  _ Not now!  _ He scolded himself. “I’m heading back to the past, and I don’t know when I’ll be back.” He nervously scratched the back of his neck.

“And you’re recruiting backup?” 

He nodded before adding, “But I might be gone for a while.” 

“Trunks,” Mai began as she shuffled towards him. “I’ll be fine on my own! I promise that I’ll still be here when you come back with help.” She assured him before leaning in for a kiss - which he passionately returned. 

He pulled away before holding her hands tightly. “I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Trunks began to stand up, the sheets no longer covered him as his backside was facing Mai’s direction. 

“I love you, Mai.” Trunks spoke softly as he stared lovingly into Mai’s eyes. 

Mai didn’t comment anything; she didn’t expect Trunks to come out with those words so fast! She didn’t exactly know what she was feeling, her mind debating as she watched Trunks disappear through the curtains - not before giving her another goodbye kiss. 

_ Too soon, Trunks... Too soon... _

—————————————————————

“Are you willing to explain your weird behaviour from this morning?” Zamasu queried, taking a sip from his tea. 

Black stood against the terrace railing, admiring the view of trees in the distance. 

“I was just desperate for the bathroom, is all.” He answered, avoiding any eye contact. “Enough about me. What we really ought to be discussing is what happened last night.” Black turned around. 

“Last night was  _ horrible _ , to say the least.” 

“Is Trunks planning anything?”

“He plans to recruit help from the past. He did - only vaguely - mention about another Goku and Vegeta…” 

Black felt a burst of excitement before rushing over to the kaioshin, “Do you know what this means?!” 

“N-No?” Zamasu was beginning to question his partner’s sudden change in demeanour. 

“If I fight Goku, I’ll become even stronger! Our plan will practically be full proof!” Black frantically shook the kaioshin as he spoke those words. 

“Maybe I’ll even surpass the most basic Super Saiyan?!” 

“Zamasu!” Zamasu yelled, causing his comrade to halt. “We can’t get excited yet! We don’t know for definite if this will play out in our favour.” 

“You’re right,” Black’s excitement dissipated as he realised his hands still cupped the shinjin’s forearms. “Sorry.” He released his grip as awkward silence debuted. 

For Zamasu, the silence was peaceful. For Black, however, he couldn’t bear long silences like this - especially with an awkward atmosphere.

“I’m going to search for some more survivors,” Black announced as he began to dress himself - odd that he was doing it out in the open. 

“And what am I supposed to do? You do understand how bored I get when I’m alone in this cabin, right?”

“You’re going to return to Trunks and find out more about their time travelling device.” Black couldn’t help but smirk at Zamasu’s obvious pout. 

“I hate you.” 

“No you don’t, Zamas. You hate those mortals.” 

“You do realise that once we’re done tricking those mortals, you owe me  _ so much _ .” 

“Oh, don’t worry… I’ll give you something that’ll pay you back for  _ all _ of it.” Black winked before placing two fingers against his forehead, abandoning his comrade. 

_ You’re an absolute asshole, ‘Black’.  _

—————————————————————

After arguing with himself whether or not he should contaminate himself by visiting the mortals’ hideout, Zamasu eventually made up his mind and headed straight towards Trunks’ location.

Zamasu landed in front of - yet  _ another  _ \- staircase. He took a deep breath before heading down the steps. However, he was stopped by two soldiers with matching uniforms. They sported white helmets and pecan soldier outfits. 

The two soldiers were blocking a rusty, shamrock curtain. They both held shotguns as they noticed Zamasu’s presence. 

“I’m sorry, but we aren’t permitted to let you enter. That was an order from Commander Trunks.” One of the soldiers stated. 

The other added; “Unless you’re a friend of his, we have to ask you to leave.”

_ Do these mortals realise who they are speaking to?!  _ “I  _ am  _ a friend of Trunks,” Zamasu felt nauseous at his own words. “Did he mention anything about a-”

“Zamasu!” A  _ sickeningly  _ distinctive voice calls from behind the curtains. 

“Commander Trunks!” The two soldiers bowed down. “Do you know this man?” 

“Yes, he’s Zamasu and he’s perfectly fine.” Trunks responded, his head peeking through the curtains. “Come on in!” The half breed grasped hold of Zamasu’s wrists, pulling him into the underground shelter. 

Zamasu was beyond _furious_! The fact that a _mortal_ had the audacity to _touch_ a _God_ with his tainted hands! He was utterly repulsed! Naturally, Zamasu would instantly slap his hand away before brutally scolding him. 

Trunks led the repulsed God into the shelter, all of the survivors eyeing him suspiciously. Zamasu felt some form of satisfaction at the sight of all those pests living in deplorable conditions. He examined the remains of families huddled together for protection, some were visibly dying. The kaioshin felt lucky that he was immortal - since he heard a lot of coughing, meaning he’d probably become infected with some illness.

“Through here,” Trunks gestured to another pair of tainted, shamrock curtains - the only difference being that this pair didn’t have bullet holes like the ones from earlier.

“Mai, Zamasu’s back!” Trunks seemed completely ecstatic at Zamasu’s presence.

As much as Zamasu deeply  _ despised  _ Trunks; he couldn’t help but relish the sound of excitement and joy the half saiyan had felt when he had arrived -  _ This is how all those pests should feel when a God, such as me, bestows the gift of my presence. _

“I thought you wouldn’t return,” Mai smiled feebly - yet her tone of voice didn’t match her expression at all. “So, where’d you head off to yesterday?” She queried with a raised brow, making it obvious to Trunks and Zamasu how irked she is by the God’s arrival.

_ Curse you, wretched mortal! You never give up, do you?  _ Zamasu cleared his throat before answering, “Just a little secret spot, can’t a Go- creature have its privacy?”

“And where is this secret spo-”

“Mai, just give it a rest.” Trunks stated, “You’re going too far.”

Mai sighed in frustration before pushing past both of them, “I’m going to get some fresh air.”

“Excuse her. Please, take a seat.” Trunks gestured to the mattress as he sat down, patting a spot across from him. He hadn’t a clue of what had gotten into Mai to cause that outburst.

“I’m fine standing.” Zamasu will most certainly _not_ sit on that filth they call a bed. 

“I’m glad to see you again, Zamasu.” Trunks smiled up at the kaioshin, “Maybe you can help us defeat Black?” He suggested as he waited for an answer. 

“I don’t think I could, Trunks.” Zamasu sighed as he dramatically dropped his head. “He’s just too strong for me.” The kaioshin knew that those words would definitely boast the other tyrant’s (already huge) ego if he were to hear those words.

“That’s a shame,” Trunks was obviously disappointed at Zamasu’s answer. “But anyways, at least the past will help us!” 

“May I ask you something, Trunks?” 

Trunks nodded in response. 

“Who is this ‘Goku’ and ‘Vegeta’ you speak of?” Zamasu asked before Trunks began to explain. The kaioshin completely blanked out Trunks’ words, occasionally nodding to show some form of interest. 

_ Your little mortal friends won’t be able to help you, Trunks.  _

—————————————————————

Trunks snuck through desolate buildings and rubble, travelling cautiously through the dark. Jade and shamrock clouds covered the sky, no stars, just darkness. The sky rumbled and bellowed as lightning began to strike, aiming at anything and everything within radius.

His face lit up one he had caught sight of his destination: Capsule Corp. The place was once his old home before it had been completely obliterated by Black - on the exact same day his mother was murdered by the merciless tyrant. 

Trunks stood directly in front of what remained of the main entrance. The vivid memories of his past flooded his mind; from the days when he was just a toddler, to the harsh battle of Androids, and eventually the worst memories of all: the death of his old master, Gohan, and his mother. 

As much as Trunks wanted to stay and mourn the two great losses, he knew he needed to leave as quickly as possible before the callous tyrant can hunt him down. 

He searched his denim jacket’s pockets, pulling out a small capsule with the number  **7** inscribed on the side.  _ It’s now, or never.  _ Trunks pressed the cap before throwing the capsule, creating a colossal puff of lilac smoke that quickly dissipated, revealing a time machine. 

Trunks felt slightly nervous as he climbed inside, staring at the half full fuel tank.  _ Mother spent a year making this… dying in the process. I can’t waste anymore time!  _ Trunks inputted the needed codes, and before he knew it, he had already left the scarred timeline behind. 

A part of Trunks wanted to stay and be there for the Resistance. Another wanted to never return, but he had to set his priorities  _ straight! _

_ I’m going to get help, Mai. Once my father and Goku arrive, we’ll defeat Black for sure!  _

And with that, Trunks fell sound asleep...

—————————————————————

“Zamasu, I’m home!” Black called out as he slammed the front door shut, wiping his boots before heading towards the living room - only to be stopped by Zamasu with his arms folded. 

“Shoes off before you come in,” Zamasu firmly spoke as he eyed the Saiyan’s dirty form up and down. 

“Yes, Mother.” Black teased as he took off his boots, placing them neatly against the door. 

Zamasu scoffed, “Shut up and take a shower, you’re all sweaty.” The kaioshin glared at the saiyan who was mumbling childishly whilst stomping up the stairs in order to piss Zamasu off. 

_ That bastard is such a pain in the ass! I’m not even sure that he’s actually another me... _


	10. SOS From The Future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention; Zamasu will address his counterpart as either Black or Zamasu. :)

Weightless, puffy clouds passed over the vibrant arctic sky. The vivid sun’s rays peered through the curtains of the clouds as a subtle breeze caused the grass to slightly sway. Summer had announced its presence; although a catastrophic crash disrupted the tranquillity.

It was none other than Son Goku being pummelled into the nearby forest ground by his supposed rival, Vegeta. The shorter saiyan had the other pinned to the ground, repeatedly throwing punches whilst the other skilfully blocked the attacks. It wasn’t long before Goku powered up to Super Saiyan and kicked the other’s gut, causing Vegeta to fall backwards. Before he could land, the taller saiyan added one final punch - aimed at Vegeta’s face - that knocked him to the ground. 

The fatal blow caused Vegeta to slam onto the grass, forming a colossal crater as dirt and rubble swarmed him. 

“Vegeta! Are you okay?!” He quickly panicked as he scrambled his way towards the smaller saiyan - who was laid in a crater. Goku knelt down as he attempted to shake him into consciousness. 

Before he could lay a hand on him, he was harshly swatted away by Vegeta. “You idiot!” He scoffed as he sat up, dusting himself off with a scowl. “I can take a damn punch!”

Goku winced at the other’s tone, “Sorry,” He laughed nervously as he scratched the back of his neck; his once golden hair reverted back to his regular ebony spikes as he powered down. “Are we gonna keep going or-” 

“Forget it,” He interrupted with a snarl, “I’m no longer in the mood; you were boring me anyway.” Vegeta spat bitterly before walking off to abandon the other.

“Aw come on, Vegeta!” Goku whined as he ran up to the other, attempting to grip his arm. “We were just getting started! Ya never chicken’ out on a spar!” 

“Piss off, Kakarot.” Vegeta snarled as he punched Goku in the gut, causing him to topple backwards and land on his ass, clutching his abdomen.

Before the other could retort back, a distant crash alerted both of their senses. They both flashed each other quick, confused glances before heading towards the noise. 

As the two edged closer, they noticed a thin outline of a machine through the clouds of dust. Once the dust had completely dissipated, the two saiyans instantly recognised what the strange mechanism was: Future Trunks. 

“Do you think it’s-”

“It obviously would be,” Vegeta snapped as he landed directly in front of the machine - Goku following shortly after. 

Before Vegeta had even gotten the chance to inspect the mechanism’s passenger; the window opened itself, slowly rising upwards. It dramatically revealed a passenger completely passed out - his head resting on the controls whilst his hair covered his face. 

“Do ya think we should get Bulma?” Goku suggested as the other inspected the person inside.

“Wake up, Trunks.” Vegeta slapped the back of the half breed’s head, causing him to jolt up in surprise. “What the hell are you doing back here?” The prince was harshly demanding answers now despite Goku’s whining, telling him to not be so  _ abrupt  _ with the boy.

“Did I make it?” Trunks groaned as he rubbed the back of his head, still throbbing from his father’s swatting. He blinked; his vision blurry as he tried to decipher the fuzzy image of two figures standing in front of him. 

One of the men was quite short, his dark hair spiked up and his face contorted into his usual scowl. “Father?” Trunks questioned as he examined the Saiyan’s dirtied, azure spandex - his white gloves also completely stained. 

Trunks identified the other man who’s much taller than his father. He was an exact replica of Black; same messy spikes, same physical appearance - except the saiyan wore his traditional orange and blue Gi and his demeanour was less intimidating due to his wide doughy eyes and childish grin on his face. 

“You bastard!” Trunks cried out before striking a punch at Goku - which the other dodged by gripping onto Trunks wrist with ease. 

“Whooaa! It’s only me, Trunks!” Goku attempted to reassure the hostile half breed. 

Vegeta intervened by swatting his son around the head again, “That’s enough.” He scolded as he watched Trunks fall to the grass. The prince marched over, “What the hell is wrong with you?” Vegeta was now  _ again _ demanding answers. 

“Calm down, ‘Geta.” The tall saiyan interrupted by placing a hand on the prince’s shoulder. “He’s probably gone through so much to get here.” Goku smiled widely whilst the other scowled before abruptly ripping the offending hand from his shoulder. 

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Vegeta mumbled, irritably staring down at his son laying in the dirt.

“Let’s take him inside and talk there,” Goku suggested - Vegeta only responded by dragging Trunks into Capsule Corp.

—————————————————————

The city was completely isolated; only a sparse amount of mortal kind remained in the apocalyptic wasteland. Dark, pebble clouds encapsulated West City, leaving in the tenebrous void of the pair of tyrants’ callousness. Only fires from previous destruction illuminated the rubble and remaining buildings that continued to topple over inelegantly.

“Where are you, Trunks?” Black growled before blasting another building; relishing the loud crash it caused as it collided with the abrasive concrete.

Black was told - more specifically harped at - by Zamasu to destroy Trunks already since he was beginning to grow bored and frustrated. Not that the saiyan didn’t mind the task, he’d rather toy with Trunks a bit more in an attempt to increase his extensive strength. 

He relaxed himself; searching for the half breed’s Ki but had no results. Trunks was completely gone! Normally, Black could always sense the other - despite whatever condition he was in. But now… he’s gone…

“That little shit!” He exasperatedly yelled, charging up his energy and creating strong winds which destroyed everything within radius. 

“Black?” A voice called, forcing Black to swing his fist around and accidentally hit Zamasu’s delicate face instead. He coughed - although he didn’t feel any pain due to his immortality. It left a dent in his face; if not for his indestructible body, he’d be horrendously disfigured. 

“I sensed your energy rising dramatically,” Zamasu began once his face effortlessly reverted back to his original look. “You honestly concern me.” He scoffed as he cupped his own face, making sure that it wasn’t damaged. 

“You could’ve landed in front of me, you know.” Black chuckled; the rage that once bubbled in his stomach now dissipated at the pleasurable sight of his comrade. “I don’t want to damage that beguiling face of ours.” The doppelgänger smirked as he stepped closer. 

Zamasu was anything but amused. “Stop flirting and come home. The tea is probably stale by now,” Zamasu scolded before placing a hand on Black’s bulky shoulder, waiting for him to instantly transport them back to their cabin. 

“We’ll just make another pot,” Black sighed as he rested his head on the kaioshin, wrapping his arm around Zamasu’s slender waist. 

“Tea is always wasted because of you.” Zamasu mumbled as their fingers intertwined.

Black sighed again as he tightened his grip on the kai’s hand to calm him. “Enough of that,” He retorted, “Why don’t we focus on the view around us; a beautiful world that will soon be ours once we cleanse it from the mortals that defile it.”

Black’s words were so pleasant for Zamasu to hear. To acknowledge their plan coming close to fruition made his heart flutter and stomach bubble with excitement. Once Trunks and the backup he planned to recruit are executed, Project Zero Mortals will flourish, leaving Black and Zamasu the only remaining beings in the multiverse. 

“Can you feel it?” Black as in a calming whisper, his breath ghosting the shell of Zamasu’s ear. 

_ Your warm breath on my ear, and my heart pounding? Yes, I can.  _ “What exactly am I supposed to feel?” Zamasu’s voice was slightly on edge as his face slowly began to heat up. 

“The sound of tranquillity erupting through the air,” Black smiled warmly at the kai as he lifted the other’s chin up with his fingers. “You see that?” The false saiyan gestured to the now clearing sky, “The sky is so blue, so pure. The world around us is undeniably  _ beautiful  _ and I always feel guilty causing destruction to such a treasure… But it is necessary in order to achieve our goal of extinguishing all mortal life.” 

Zamasu’s face was completely erubescent now; every word was a soft melody to the kai’s pointed ears. His heart rate increased even more, violently slamming against his rib cage - he wouldn’t be surprised if Black could hear it. The fingers on his chin weren’t helping the butterflies abruptly fluttering around in his stomach; the warmth Black emitted was completely blissful. 

Zamasu tensed as he felt Black’s lips hovering over his sensitive neck by only a few millimetres; his breath hitched as loving kisses trailed from his prominent jawline to the collar of his violet undershirt. 

Black pulled away seconds later - still keeping his arm wrapped around the kaioshin’s waist. “I think it’s time to have some tea,” He chuckled before stepping away from Zamasu; only to continue holding his hand. 

“Let’s.” Zamasu’s voice was hesitant as his fingers ghosted over the places where Black had planted his lips. 

Both tyrants completely disappeared, abandoning the wasteland. Earth was almost silent as the population continued to decrease - mostly from contagious sickness and Black targeting the city for stress relief. 

Survivors could only hope _.  _ Hope that Trunks will return soon since he’s their only chance of certifying a prosperous future for the world and mankind itself. 

_ We’re praying for you, Trunks... _


	11. Awkward Tension

Comfortably seated on a tangerine couch, Trunks rested against a horizontally long window, revealing the capturing view of West City. Beside him was Goku, and his other mother, Bulma. Trunks’ father rested against the door frame of the living space, only sporting his cobalt denim shorts and a white towel that hung over his shoulder 

“And that’s why I returned to the past,” Trunks sighed as a wave of relief washed over him once he  _ finally  _ finished telling them his story. He looked around the room, awaiting everyone’s response. 

“So, you’re saying that there’s someone out there who looks exactly like  _ me _ ?!” Goku was completely dumbfounded by Trunks’ situation; it’s  _ impossible  _ for Goku to be alive in the Trunks’ timeline since he had suffered from the fatal heart disease. 

“But the thing is, he’s even stronger than you.” Trunks sighed. 

“He  _ IS _ ?!” Goku questioned - well, more like yelled. 

“And so, you fuck off back to this timeline? You seriously gave up?” Vegeta began to rage as he slowly made his way towards his future son. 

“Calm down, Vegeta!” Goku tried to intervene, only for the prince to slap him clean across the face. “Owiee!” 

Ignoring Goku’s pain, Vegeta continued his rant. Vegeta repetitively labelled him as a disgrace to the entire saiyan race. Trunks hung his head with shame; his father’s abrupt speech was quite unexpected, and took a toll on his confidence.  _ It wasn’t supposed to be like this... _

“That’s enough, Vegeta!” Bulma harped with an irritably high-pitched voice - a tone that even Vegeta of all people couldn’t argue with. “Why don’t you rest, Trunks. You look exhausted.” She stated, gesturing towards the door. 

Trunks sighed, heading out - though, not before glancing back at his scowling father.  _ You never changed since the day we first met…  _

“Hey, Bulma?” Goku’s voice chirped nervously as he scratched the back of his neck. 

“Hm?” 

“Could I stay the night?” Goku’s voice sounded quite on edge; his tone was slightly out of character, Vegeta noted.

“Sure,” Bulma nodded. “You know where the spare rooms are? I’ll be in my lab if you need me.” And with that, she left the two full saiyans alone. 

Vegeta couldn’t help but think deeply about Kakarot’s request. He’d never really asked to spend the night over the years - only when Bulma hosted her obnoxious parties and he was too drunk to be trusted in getting himself home. 

Whatever the reason, Vegeta didn’t care as much. “I’ll be in the gravity chamber;  _ don’t  _ bother me.” He warned before exiting, leaving the other to dwell in his thoughts.

—————————————————————

Tranquil, harmonious, cordial: Earth’s atmosphere was undeniably pleasant due to the Trunks’ departure. Both tyrants relished the fresh glimpse of their destined future that they laboured for. 

Nature surrounding their oak cabin rested from the lack of destruction that used to disrupt their peace. Trees gently swayed, flowers bloomed, and nearby animals claimed the lake that passed underneath the cabin pillars; finally breaking free from their hiding. 

“Nature is so heavenly on this planet; a planet that was tainted the most by mortal scum,” Zamasu spoke, resting his arms on the terrace railing as he watched the world unfold. 

Black, who was sitting on the miniature table propped up behind the kai, teacup in hand, couldn’t help but admire Zamasu’s words, relishing how much the shinjin enjoyed Earth’s alluring environment. 

But they couldn’t get  _ too  _ carried away… After all, the two still had a long way before completion of their plan. 

“Your tea’s getting cold,” Black broke the silence - as well as Zamasu’s inner monologuing. “And you always complain that  _ I’m  _ the one wasting tea.” He teased as Zamasu turned around to face him. 

“It’s not like I do it frequently… unlike you,” Zamasu playfully smirked before taking a seat across from his comrade, sipping his still hot tea. “You lied, it’s not cold.” 

“Well it would’ve been if you had kept staring at the view.”

“It’s better than looking at your mortal face.” Zamasu insulted with a disgusted expression. “It’s sad, really, that you rely so much on mortal strength to complete our Zero Mortal plan.”

Black’s stomach dropped; that comment was  _ completely  _ uncalled for, and extremely offensive to the saiyan.

The expression Black had made instantly splashed guilt at Zamasu’s face. He hadn’t meant to come off as rude or insulting him, but the kai should’ve known that referring to his other self as a lowly mortal was absurd. “You know I didn’t mean that.” Zamasu attempted to resolve the issue - the last thing he wanted was Black turning against him. 

“Then why say such things?” Black retorted as he eyed the culpable kaioshin. “Am I really a mortal? Do you no longer see me as you? Am I such a stranger?” His queries flung out a sentence at a time, growing more aggressive and agitated the more he continued. 

“I don’t!” Zamasu cried out frantically as he rose from his seat; the outburst caused Black to halt - slight rage still bubbling in his stomach. 

Black stood up as well; he eyed the Kai’s pathetic attempt of redemption, but it was too pitiful to witness his former self struggling to create a sentence. 

Normally, the saiyan wouldn’t take offence to the insult. However, since Zamasu had insulted him on multiple occasions for his mortal vessel, it took a toll on their relationship. 

“When you think of an answer, I’ll be waiting in my room.” Black’s tone was cold as he left the terrace, abandoning Zamasu. 

_ I just had to be an asshole, didn’t I?  _

————————————————————— 

Trunks stared at the pale ceiling. The blinds were closed, but sunlight still seeped through. His signature sword rested on an oak side table - as well as a fresh set of clothes that his mother had picked out. 

Pulling the sheets closer, visions of Black’s satanic smirk that reeked of death flashed through his mind. Trunks’ breathing quickened as the callous laugh of the tyrant faintly echoed in his ear. 

_ I’m safe. Black isn’t here. I’m safe, I’m safe.  _

Maybe if he told himself that enough times, it would come true…


	12. Nerves

Rain violently smacked against the cabin’s exterior; raindrops glued themselves to the windows as the surrounding nature played tug of war with the abrupt winds. Thunder growled as a pallet of ash, graphite and porpoise clouds clashed with each other. 

Zamasu could only admire such a view.

Despite many opposing the harsh wrath of nature; Zamasu couldn’t think of an even more tranquil setting. He sighed as he watched rain trickle down the windows, landing on the soaked terrace. But Zamasu could only think back to the offensive words he told Black - as well as the other occasion where he had made similar comments. 

He looked at Black’s bedroom door longingly; it broke his heart that he had hurt his comrade, maybe he should’ve calmed down on the comments regarding his physical appearance and his idea of using mortal strength for the purpose of justice. 

_Maybe I did go too far… you’re no stranger to me, Black; you’re another me._

Conversely, Black was doing vigorous push ups while completely drenched in sweat from his previous work outs. His arms ached and his muscles tensed as he continued to push himself up. 

“Black?” Zamasu’s faint knocking disrupted the Saiyan’s push ups, alerting his eyes towards the direction of the kaioshin’s voice.

“Oh, Zamasu. It’s just you,” Black sighed as he pushed himself up before grabbing a towel from the bed to dry himself of sweat. 

“I’m sorry about earlier… I didn’t expect you to take so much offence.” Zamasu’s pride continued to attempt to intervene with his apology, but his guilt wouldn’t allow it - they couldn’t hate each other for an eternity; it would ruin their dream utopia. 

“Okay,” He responded bluntly as he grabbed the water bottle that he placed on the floor, resting beside the bed. 

“What do you mean, _‘okay’?_ ” Zamasu questioned; he had been taken aback by the other’s frank response. “You seemed so upset earlier, what changed it now?” He was demanding an explanation now. 

“Zamasu,” Black couldn’t help but chuckle at Zamasu’s irritated stance. “I wasn’t actually offended.” As soon as Zamasu’s jaw dropped in realisation, the other burst into a fit of laughter. 

“It’s _not_ funny!” Zamasu scolded, “I thought you hated me! You made me feel guilty for nothing?!” His harping started to seize Black’s roar of laughter. 

“I’m sorry, Zamasu.” Black smiled as he stepped closer, placing a hand on the kai’s shoulder. “Does an apology make you feel better?” Black teased as he traced Zamasu’s jaw. 

Zamasu slapped his hand away, glaring intensely into the other’s eyes to convey his irritation. “No, it doesn’t, you filthy mortal.” He bitterly spat before grabbing hold of Black’s half full water bottle and throwing it across the room.

Black sighed before wrapping his muscular arms around Zamasu’s smaller frame; he rested his chin on his shoulder, and intertwined his fingers with the kai’s. “Calm down, you’re overreacting.” Black pressed his lips against Zamasu’s neck again, “I’ll make you some tea if that’s what you’d like?” He knew that once he had the shinjin in his arms and brought up tea, Zamasu would almost _instantly_ forgive him. 

It took a few seconds before the kaioshin answered; “Fine…” He trailed off before glaring, “But don’t try anything funny with my tea-”

Black intervened, “I won’t, I won’t.” He chuckled before leaving his room and heading towards the kitchen.

_If my tea tastes off, you’re dead._

—————————————————————

Clear skies engulfed West City as humidity took over; only a very minor breeze occasionally appeared. The sun’s daffodil rays peeked through the dove blinds, awakening Trunks from his deep slumber - as well as the fresh smell of crispy bacon that sizzled in the kitchen.

Trunks stretched out his aching muscles as the fog of sleep slowly cleared from his mind, soon replacing the fog with fragments of his pleasant dream that he finally had. Trunks remembered picturing himself, Mai and his now deceased mother, Bulma, gathered around a table as they feasted together. The trio was full of content, security and laughter as they passed salts and ketchup across the table. He pleasantly sighed aloud, relishing the once in a lifetime chance of having an undisturbed sleep; but the sound of two people arguing disrupted his peaceful mind. 

Trunks rubbed his eyes as the two voices continued to squabble and yell at each other - one being raspier whilst the other seemed slightly chirpy. He swiftly tied a knot around his dressing gown before making his way towards the kitchen, opening the door to reveal his father holding an empty plate, his arms flailing around whilst strips of bacon seared on the grill, and Goku whining pitifully as he chewed on a strip of bacon. 

“You’re already eating one! Stop being greedy, Kakarot!” Vegeta snapped as he continued to cook the bacon on the grill.

“But it’s not _fair_ , Vegetaaa.” Goku whined whilst he continued to chew bacon in his mouth, “You’ve had more than me! And ya stole one of mine!”

“That doesn’t matter, Kakarot.” The other snarled, “If you want more, make your _own_.” He smirked as he watched the taller Saiyan’s face fall.

“Aw, c’mon, Vegetaaa.” Goku attempted to make the most substantial puppy eyes he could muster, “You’re real good at makin’ bacon.” The saiyan could notice Vegeta’s mental debate whilst he cutely batted his eyelids.

“Father?” Trunks interrupted, causing the two to clear their throats. 

“What do you want, brat?” Vegeta didn’t even turn to address him as he slapped more cooked bacon onto Goku’s plate, summoning a childish ‘yay!’ before he engulfed the food within seconds. 

“Can I have some more?” 

“Fuck off.” Vegeta scoffed before turning off the grill, and filling his own plate as he took a seat across from Kakarot. 

“Oh, mornin’ Trunks.” Goku addressed whilst he licked the bacon crumbs surrounding his lips as the back of his hand wiped the barbeque sauce from his chin.

“You can make your own breakfast.” Vegeta spoke coldly, his face scrunched up into a scowl. 

Trunks sighed, he was used to his father’s cold stance and rough personality; he’s surprised that Goku hasn’t gotten sick of him yet. “No, it’s fine. I didn’t want any bacon anyways.” He answered calmly before searching the cupboards for any cereal. 

“Wanna spar, ‘Geta?” Goku suggested.

“No,” Vegeta bluntly responded; Goku’s face fell. “I’m training you, Trunks.” 

Trunks couldn’t help but flash a warm smile at his father, “Are you sure?” Trunks wanted to know if his father’s request was definite. 

“Do you want my help or not?!” Vegeta barked aggressively, making his son’s eyes bug out in surprise.

“Y-Yes, of course!”

—————————————————————

The fire crackled, illuminating the living space with its warm colours as it casted dancing shadows on the oak walls. Pebble, slate, and pewter bricks built the frame of the fireplace and chimney, holding spruce shelves that consisted of certain _holy_ objects and aged picture frames that displayed images of the family who were once resident in the cabin. 

Zamasu wrapped himself up in a myriad of mahogany and crimson blankets, heating himself up as he sat near the crackling flames. He held one of the picture frames close, examining the family that stared back at him; a middle-aged woman with strawberry blonde hair, smiling as she held - what he presumed was - her infant son. Her husband’s arm wrapped around her shoulder, his chestnut hair slightly out of place whilst his face seemed to express his contentment. 

“What are you doing, Zamas?” Black’s suave voice caught the shinjin’s attention. He walked over to the kai, holding a set of porcelain teacups that he shakily placed on the oak coffee table, taking a seat next to the kaioshin.

Zamasu turned to face him, “I was just curious,” He admitted. “Why did we never burn these? They don’t pose any use for us.” The kaioshin abruptly pulled the tattered paper from the frame before tossing it into the fire, watching the image become disfigured as it melted within minutes.

Black picked up his tea, bringing the warm liquid towards his mouth as he spoke. “Enough about the pictures,” He blew gently on the cup before taking a sip. “It’s off-putting.”

“Well there’s nothing else to do,” Zamasu began as he leant over to retrieve his cup that had slowly cooled. “No one knows when that bastard Trunks will be back.” 

“He shouldn’t be too long,” Black replied. “Those mortals should arrive within a couple of days.”

“And what if they _don’t_?” Zamasu’s face scrunched up in frustration; he’d been planning on killing the mortal he loathed the most. 

“Are you cold?” Black queried, changing the conversation.

The kai sighed, “Maybe…” Zamasu trailed off in suspicion, raising one of his thin, white brows. “Why do you ask?” 

“No reason,” Black responded with a slight smirk, shuffling closer towards the kai. He watched the other’s face dust scarlet as his pointed ears lowered. Black chuckled as he buried his face into Zamasu’s shoulder.

Zamasu’s face burned at the contact he received from his partner. Timidly, he ran his fingers through Black’s tangled ebony spikes, delicately massaging his scalp. 

Black could easily depict his partner’s nervousness, and he wasn’t surprised since kaioshins never took part in intimate encounters. “Your tea’s getting cold, Zamas.” Black smirked, lifting himself up before proceeding towards the kitchen. 

Zamasu sat bewildered as he watched his counterpart enter the kitchen.

_He’s never done that before…_


	13. Trip To The Future!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I’m taking forever to update my works. I’m currently working on an explicit one-shot :)

A sudden spark of intense energy startled Goku awake. He jolted up on the tangerine couch, where he had taken a brief nap, and examined around the room with his sleep filled eyes. “It’s probably Vegeta,” The saiyan concluded aloud before pawing his eyes to rid the blur of sleep. The sun’s rays strained his eyes as he stretched out like a starfish - only to inelegantly flop off the couch, creating a light thud from his head contacting the dove tiles.

Before his throbbing head could even register, Trunks’ beaten body smashed through the window and slapped against the (now chipped) wall.

“Is that  _ all  _ you’ve got?” Goku heard Vegeta rage as he stomped through the broken glass in his Super Saiyan Blue form. His spiked hair glowed a vibrant aqua, his eyes staring coldly at his offspring whilst his short stature was shrouded in cobalt and lapis energy. 

Trunks’ once vivid blonde hair had fallen to its original blue as he coughed up blood. He attempted to pull himself up, gripping onto wall debris to help balance himself, but Trunks’ beaten and bruised body took a toll on his strength, clumsily pulling him down to the ground. 

Vegeta stepped closer, his face inches away from his son’s; “You’re an absolute disgrace to the entire saiyan race! No wonder you came back here! Maybe this so-called  _ Black  _ should’ve finished you off in the first place!” The prince’s unforgiving voice echoed throughout Capsule Corp, summoning an awkward and shame-filled silence. 

“Don’t ya think you’re being too hard on him?” 

“Who asked for your input?” He quickly snapped back.

“Well I’m just sayin’ that you shouldn’t get so pissy all the time. He’s done a lot.” Goku had stepped up in an attempt to pry his attention away from Trunks. 

“ _ Pissy? _ And what the fuck is that _ supposed  _ to mean?” Vegeta gripped Goku’s hideous orange Gi with a tight fist.

Goku audibly swallowed before scratching the back of his neck - a nervous tick of his. “Ya just get so angry all the time, maybe ya should chill out…” His voice increased in pitch as he trailed off. 

“Chill out? You want me to chill out?”

“Yeah! It’d be great for your anger problems.”

“Anger problems?!” The chilling anger in Vegeta’s tone was a clear indicator that the tall saiyan had crossed the line.

Trunks watched as the two bickered like children - except it was more violent and the language that Vegeta used wasn’t exactly  _ child friendly.  _

“You don’t know shit!”

“Well at least I can control my temper!”

Vegeta’s bottled up frustration had finally exploded as he harshly punched the other’s gut, causing him to stumble backwards, clutching his abdomen whilst he coughed. “If ya wanted a spar, ya could’ve just said so.” Goku let out a strained chuckle before striking the other in the stomach - almost succumbing to the thought of striking his crotch…

“B-Bastard,” Vegeta grunted, “Get the  _ fuck  _ outside,  _ now _ .” 

Goku couldn’t hide his excitement as he transformed into his blue form - his tangled ebony spikes defied gravity once a luminous shade of aqua consumed him. The two vanished into the remains of the woods, beginning their sparring match at their greatest levels. 

Trunks could only watch from afar as he searched his jacket pocket for a senzu, chewing it slowly whilst he took mental notes. 

—————————————————————

Rowdy, brash, cacophonous: the whistling of the kettle abruptly pierced through Zamasu’s sensitive ears, indicating that the water had been boiled. 

The shinjin entered the kitchen, greeting the saiyan who had made himself comfortable on the counter chairs whilst he focused his attention on the novel in his hand.

“We really need a better kettle,” Zamasu began to complain as he poured the scalding liquid into a beige mug. “The amount of damage that it has caused to my ears is uncountable.” He scoffed, stirring the tea bag with a silver spoon. 

Black didn’t respond - which irked Zamasu to say the _ least. _

“Am I talking to myself?” The kaioshin spat as he slapped the soggy tea bag into the waste bin.

Black smirked, “I am you. So…  _ technically _ , you are.” The doppelganger couldn’t hold back the slight smugness in his voice.

“Shut up,” Zamasu scoffed, wandering over to rest his cup in front of Black’s. 

The saiyan leaned closer, resting his elbows on the counter. “You were complaining about my silence, and now you want me to shut up? Make your mind up, Zamasu.” His tone triggered the kai’s temper. “Is this for me?” Black spoke with mock sweetness before leaning to grab the cup. 

Zamasu snatched it away, causing some tea to spill. “It’s not for you.” He scoffed before drinking. “I just wish those mortals would hurry up.” 

Black laced his fingers with Zamasu’s once the shinjin rested his cup on the wooden coaster. “They’ll be back soon,” He spoke coolly, “And once they are… we’ll kill them with our bare hands.”

Zamasu gripped the other’s hand tighter as he leaned in closer - their foreheads being centimetres apart. “I’m the one that’s executing Son Goku, not you.” His tone was a warning, harsh and cold.

“Don’t worry, Zamas,” The saiyan pressed his forehead against the kai’s, admiring the faint pink dust on his cheek. “You can do whatever you please.” Black closed the mere gap between their lips as he caressed Zamasu’s knuckles with his thumb. 

—————————————————————

Twilight skies encapsulated West City; stars and buildings emitted light as the moon watched over pedestrians passing through the tranquil streets. Only a sparse amount still roamed the corner shops as the clock struck midnight, signalling those wandering to return to their homes. 

Trunks and the others gathered around the time machine that stood in front of tall shrubs. A midnight breeze passed through, causing nature to sway rhythmically. Leaves slapped against the mechanism’s dandelion exterior. Trunks’ fingers traced  _ ‘hope’  _ that was messily painted in charcoal; “This is it.”

Bulma tucked strands of her aqua hair behind her ear, reaching for the fuel that she stored in her lab coat. Pulling out the capsule, she pressed a button that lifted a pewter barrier to reveal an ominous lapis liquid; “This should be enough for a trip there and back.” 

As she passed the fuel to Trunks, she realised that Goku still hasn’t showed up yet. “Where the hell is Goku!?” Bulma screeched, pulling on her short hair.

Vegeta interrupted, “Calm down, woman; Kakarot will get here eventually.” He scoffed, pulling on his gloves. “It’s not like we’d need him anyways because  _ I’ll  _ be the one defeating Black.”

Footsteps intercepted the trio’s chatter; Goku stumbled his way over and greeted the others - his presence causing the prince to scowl as he tightly folded his arms to his chest. “I got the beans!” His voice chirped whilst he waved the brown bag in his right hand. “Are we going now?” 

Bulma’s anger boiled as her hands tightened into fists that shook beside her hips. “What took you so long?!” Her screech pierced through the trio’s ears, rattling against their sensitive eardrums.

Goku cupped his aching ears in an attempt to soothe them; “Geez, Bulma. You didn’t need to scream at me.” He nervously scratched the back of his neck, transitioning his expression of discomfort into his classic grin. “I just went to the bathroom, that’s all.” 

“And let me guess… you almost forgot the senzu beans.” Vegeta scoffed sarcastically, watching the other’s face light up even more.

“How did you know?!” 

Trunks intervened; “Enough. We really should get going now.” 

The third class Saiyan’s face flickered from a grin to complete seriousness, “Let’s go.” 

Whilst they struggled to fit into the small mechanism, Trunks’ mind wandered; will the battle against Black play out in their favour? Are Goku and Vegeta stronger than the main antagonist? Despite the two full saiyans pushing and shoving as they squabble about personal space, Trunks couldn’t feel more at peace with the presence of his allies.


	14. “And So We Finally Meet, Son Goku.”

Abhorrent, repelling, odious: a swarm of slate, moss, and charcoal clouds engulfed the earth in addition to the apocalyptic wasteland. Eldritch winds whispered ghastly at the remains of buildings and rubble, blowing dust across the surface. 

As the time machine descended, the dry juniper strands of the earth’s cracked and infertile soil blew around violently before coming to a halt once it had landed. Trunks pressed a button to open the transparent lid which creaked slightly. 

“I gotta get out!” Goku’s voice squeaked as he stumbled out, falling face first onto the oblivious prince. 

Face burning with embarrassment and rage, Vegeta launched the cloddish saiyan off of him by harshly kicking him in the gut. “Don’t you  _ ever  _ get on top of me!” The prince snapped before whacking Goku in his thick skull. 

“What was that for?!” The third class whined, rubbing the back of his throbbing skull to soothe the pain. Though, the fullness of his bladder concerned Goku more. “Gotta pee!” He cried, cupping his crotch before jogging a few centimetres away to relieve himself, watering the dried grass with his urine. 

“Do you have no shame, Kakarot?!” Vegeta scolded as Goku gently shook himself to dry. 

“But I was desperate!” Goku whined. 

“You’re disgusting!” 

“Oh yeah? Well… you’re mean!” Goku stuck out his tongue, receiving a harsh slap across the face. 

The two began to squabble again. Trunks could only watch from afar before finding the courage to intercept their childish dispute; “Calm down, Father,” Trunks nervously edged closer to the slightly more restrained saiyans. “Remember what we’re really here for.” He re; the task of defeating the callous tyrant was far more important than the competitive saiyans’ rivalry. 

Stepping away from the hostile prince, Goku rested his hands on his hips, admiring the apocalyptic wasteland. His onyx irises scanned the half-destroyed buildings, watching contaminated, murky water leak out from the broken pipes. “You weren’t kiddin’ about your world, Trunks,'' The third class saiyan continued to wander whilst tall buildings surrounded him. “This place is a mess!” 

Before Goku could continue dishing out his opinions of the world’s abominable appearance, bullets from guns aimed directly at the unsuspecting Saiyan’s head. Luckily, the third class tactically caught all the bullets before any hit his vitals. 

“Fire!” A soldier hiding behind a lamppost ordered.

“Ceasefire!” Trunks yelled, waving his hands to signal peace. “This man is not Black!” 

Two soldiers scrambled their way out from hiding, stumbling their way over to the trio. “Commander Trunks?” One of them questioned.

“Is it really you?!” The other beamed. 

“Sorry about that, Commander,” The tall soldier bowed, taking off his helmet. “It’s just your friend here that really looks like Black.”

“Not to mention the other’s villainous face!”

Vegeta growled, “What was that?” 

“Wow, Vegeta; you really do have a scary face.” Goku laughed, irking the smaller saiyan.

“I do not!” 

“Alright, that’s enough for you two,” Trunks scolded. “We should really head to the bunker.”

The two saiyans exchanged looks that only they could decipher before nodding in agreement.

—————————————————————

Black shot up from the sofa; his ebony spikes were more of a mess than usual as he threw on his Gi, hurriedly tying his crimson sash around his waist before rushing to awaken Zamasu - who sat peacefully reading a novel on the terrace. 

Slamming his large hands on the miniature oak table, the shinjin spat out his tea from the startling action. “What in the Gods!?”

“Don’t you feel it?” The doppelganger beamed at the perplexed kaioshin. 

“Feel what?” Zamasu was almost fearful of the other’s demeanour.

“The saiyans are back!” Black frantically exclaimed, shaking the table with excitement.

Zamasu hurriedly caught the falling porcelain with the dove tablecloth; “You’ve gotten tea everywhere!” The kaioshin was beyond  _ infuriated  _ at this point with all the tea drenching his clothes. “You’ll be cleaning these later!” Zamasu commanded as he gestured to the soggy material.

Black snorted, “Your clothes will be the last of your worries; defeating those Saiyan pests and extinguishing all mortal life is our main priority.”

The kaioshin irritably rolled his eyes before retrieving his used teacup; “You owe me more tea once you’ve returned,” Wiping his hands with the tablecloth, the kai’s mouth formed a playful smirk, “And maybe if you do an outstanding job of defeating those pests, I just might let you have some.”

_ Trust me, Zamasu; they won’t even know what hit them. _

—————————————————————

The group’s footsteps echoed as they edged their way through the underground bunker, examining the cracked and sullied concrete walls. Broken ceiling pipes dripped contaminated water onto the ground, forming miniature puddles.

The two soldiers from earlier lead the trio towards the remaining population of the resistance; “Just through those curtains,” One of them gestured, pointing his unloaded shotgun towards the tainted shamrock curtains.

“This place sure is dark,” Goku managed to speak as he looked around the dimly lit area before locking eyes with the light peeking beneath the curtains.

Vegeta glanced up at his rival, making eye contact for a brief moment before looking away. The third class noticed this, but couldn’t think to comment.

“We’re here,” Trunks announced, interrupting the silence by drawing open the curtains, revealing survivors huddled up in groups. Barrels contained flames that spread warmth and light throughout. The sound of coughing and sniffling reverberated throughout the bunker, indicating that many had fallen victim of a spreading sickness.

“Trunks?” A soft, distinctive voice alerted the half breed, causing his heart to flutter.

“Mai!” Trunks dashed towards the woman, swooping her up and embracing her tightly.

The two full saiyans flashed confused glances at each other; “And who’s this, Trunks?” Vegeta’s tone conveyed his demand for an answer.

“Is she your girlfriend?” Goku teased childishly, flashing a smug smirk at the half breed and the woman.

Trunks quickly put Mai down before combing his fingers through his sapphire hair sheepishly; his cheeks were now burning with embarrassment. “Actually, Goku… it’s kind of complicated…” He trailed off in a quiet voice.

Mai twirled a lock of her ebony hair around her finger, “So who are you?” The woman managed to pivot the conversation towards the other saiyans.

Trunks came up behind the woman, placing a hand on her shoulder; “Mai, this is Goku,” He gestured to the wildly grinning saiyan in orange. “And that’s my father, Vegeta.” As he aimed his speech towards the prince’s direction, Vegeta scoffed as he folded his arms and glanced away.

“So, are these two supposed to be your backup?” Mai began as she eyed the two up and down. 

Trunks nodded; “They’re going to help me defeat Black.”

Vegeta intervened, “No, Trunks,” The Saiyan prince edged closer; “You’re going to _watch_ me fight.” He commanded with an unarguable tone of seriousness. 

“But Vegetaaaa!” Goku whined, “That’s not fair!” He flailed his arms in the air, contorting his face into a pout. 

“I don’t care whether it’s fair or not, Kakarot.” 

“We can play rock, paper, scissor-!” 

“No!” Vegeta yelled, smacking the third class across the face.

“Rock, paper, scissor-” Goku began before the other slapped his hand away. 

“How can they make a game out of this? Are they even aware of what Black is capable of?!” Mai was completely dumbfounded by the two Saiyans’ excitement;  _ what normal person would want to fight an evil tyrant such as him? _

“WHAT?!” Goku screeched, the disappointment in his voice akin to a child receiving a broken promise. “I lost?” He glumly glanced down at his hands that gestured scissors whilst Vegeta’s were a tight fist resembling a rock. 

“You’re so predictable.” Vegeta laughed hoarsely, irking the other. 

“You cheated!” The third class accused, pointing an offending finger at his chest. 

Gripping tightly on Goku’s wrist, Vegeta swatted it away, causing him to topple backwards. “Don’t point your rancid fingers at me, clown,” He spat bitterly. “I played your stupid game and you lost. Get over it.”

Before the argument could escalate, both Saiyans froze in place as the vexed expressions on their faces dissipated. “He’s here.” Goku spoke frankly, sending tremors through Trunks as the words sank in.

“You mean… Black is here?” The colour from Mai’s face had drained as she swallowed audibly; her heart rate had quickened immensely.

Panic and fear flooded the minds of survivors, causing them all to huddle together even tighter for protection. Children cried to their mothers as they whispered sweet nothings, cradling them to soothe their cries – maybe telling them repeatedly that  _ ‘everything’s going to be okay’  _ could possibly come true.

As the quartet headed towards the exterior of the bunker, they realised that the faith of humanity and the future of Trunks’ scarred timeline now rests in their hands. Trunks could only muster a brave face as the group reached the surface of the apocalyptic wasteland, watching the murky sky encapsulate their new battlefield.

“Where is he?” Mai timidly questioned; she wasn’t like the others so she couldn’t sense Black’s energy.

“I’m not sure…” Trunks had begun to feel confused –  _ I could sense him earlier… _

Vegeta impatiently blasted a small, luminous energy blast into the air, signalling their whereabouts. “If that doesn’t get his attention, I don’t know what will.”

Before they could continue, the explosion of a building interrupted the group from wandering.

Goku, Vegeta and Trunks immediately stood in their fighting stances, tactically preparing for an attack to occur. Malicious laughter caught the trio’s attention, forcing them to instinctively examine the surroundings for the sound’s source. 

“We know you’re here, Black!” Trunks barked aggressively; “Show yourself!” The half breed’s words echoed throughout the wasteland. 

Charcoal and pebble smoke erupted from a pile of flaming rubble, refraining the mortals from seeing the antagonist who stood behind. Chuckling, the callous tyrant drew open the curtains of smoke by swatting the clouds away with the back of his hand. 

Goku’s jaw dropped at the man before him; “He really does look like me!” The third class gasped before composing himself. 

Black smirked as he lowered himself in front of the trio. Dusting the minor debris from his Gi, the doppelgänger eyed down the others whilst he examined their power levels. “So, we finally met, Son Goku.” His deep tone sent tremors down the group’s spines. The false Saiyan’s voice had a similar sound to the third class, although it was a lot raspier and far more chilling.

The trio eyed the tyrant down, almost burning holes through his Gi with their intense gaze. The fact that they’re enemy was an exact replica of Goku created an uncomfortable atmosphere – except for Vegeta. The saiyan prince seemed to be joyful at the thought of defeating his rival; having the ability to pound his rival to dust bubbled excitement in his stomach.

“So, you’re the clown I’m supposed to fight?” Vegeta mused with a scoff; “I’ll have fun taking your other self out, Kakarot.” He smirked at the other who stuck his tongue out and blew a raspberry in response.

Black burst into uncontrollable laughter at the small Saiyan’s words; “You seriously believe that you have any chance against a  _ god?  _ Your useless mortal minds couldn’t even fathom the extent of my power!”

Vegeta could only chuckle. “If you seriously believe that, then come at me.” He challenged with a smug smirk as he used his hand to gesture Black towards him.

And with that, Black lunged towards him with his fist that was aimed directly at Vegeta’s cheek; the metal time ring almost dented the prince.

Punches, kicks, and occasional Ki blasts were thrown at rapid paces in the sky. The immense amounts of energy emitting from the two caused destruction towards the surrounding nature; buildings crashed to the ground, craters were formed, and dust and debris spiralled around.

“Take this, you bastard!” Vegeta yelled as he slammed his clamped fist on the top of Black’s solid skull, causing the tyrant to smash into the group of buildings, forming dust and dirt clouds to block Vegeta’s view.

Breathless, he wiped the sweat from his forehead before running his gloved hand through his aqua spikes. “Down already? Absolutely pathetic!” The prince spat, “I expected more from a  _ ‘god’ _ !” Dusting himself off, Vegeta turned around to fly in Goku and Trunks’ direction. Once he arrived, he shouted: “It’s done.”

Goku’s eyes widened as he noticed- “Vegeta! Look out!”

Vegeta scoffed; “What is it now- “Before he could add an insult towards the third class, a vibrant magenta energy sword pierced through his chest, causing him to gasp in shock. “What?!” He coughed up blood.

Black began to laugh maniacally, “You mortals are always over-confident! I had expected more from a saiyan  _ prince _ !” He mimicked Vegeta’s voice from earlier.

“Vegeta!” Goku exasperatingly yelled, transforming into Super Saiyan Blue before charging towards the laughing tyrant, striking him in the gut repeatedly.

The prince’s unconscious body fell to the ground – luckily, Trunks caught him before further damage was caused. He watched as Goku fought aggressively, increasing his energy as his aqua aura grew brighter. Every punch and kick were so precise and full of emotion.

Immobile on the ground, Black could only struggle as the third class attacked with many blows, causing the crater they were fighting in to fall deeper. He allowed the hits since saiyans grow stronger with every battle – especially with critical attacks and near-death situations.

Goku departed from the other, pushing his feet against Black’s chest to float directly above before putting his hands together by his left side. “Ka...me…”

Black chuckled as he wiped the blood that had spilled from his lips before instant transmitting behind the saiyan, swatting Goku’s neck with the side of his hand. “Useless.” He gripped onto the Saiyan’s Gi before he could fall to the ground. “I had expected more from you, Goku! Aren’t you supposed to be the mighty warrior from Earth? How pitiful!” Black spat directly onto the third class’ face before throwing him to the ground. 

Goku’s face scraped against the abrasive concrete, his harshly wounded body skid across the pebbles towards Trunks. Groaning, he attempted to push himself up; however, his limbs felt numb and his attempt of regaining strength was futile. 

“Goku!” Trunks exclaimed as he rushed towards the other’s body - still carrying his father over his shoulder. 

As Black watched the trio, his head began to throb -  _ I just had to get a headache now, didn’t I?  _ He sneezed as his eyes felt heavy and watered up slightly. “For fucks sake!” The doppelganger growled under his breath. 

“You’ll pay for this, Black!” Trunks yelled before signalling Mai to throw a missile which erupted clouds of fog, shielding them from the tyrant’s view. 

The tyrant examined around once the smoke had dissipated; Trunks and the others were officially gone. However, Black could only laugh as he eyed the capsule in his hand. “Looks like your friends are stuck here, saiyan.” 

—————————————————————

Running down an alleyway as fast as their legs could go, Trunks and Mai took the injured Saiyan’s along with them to a hidden area that was surrounded by trees, far from the desolate city where their battle was hosted. 

“Do you have the machine?” Mai queried.

Trunks nodded before turning to Goku; “Eat a senzu,” He placed the green bean into his mouth and watched the other chew slowly before swallowing. 

Jumping up with a burst of energy, Goku beamed: “Wow! You were right, Trunks; he is strong!” 

“Are there any more beans left?” Trunks asked.

Goku shook his head, “I left the rest at the bunker.”

“Let’s just get you all out of here!” Mai ushered Trunks to dig through his pockets.

All of the colour drained from Trunks’ face. “Shit! It’s gone.” He cursed as his hands scrambled through his clothes.

“WHAT?!” Everyone else exclaimed. 

“Let’s just return to the shelter. Vegeta is fading quickly!” Goku suggested as he carried the prince over his shoulder. 

Trunks and Mai nodded in agreement before hurrying through the forest exit. 

_ You’ve gotta hold on a little longer, ‘Geta. We’re gonna fix you up real good once we get back! _


	15. Sickness

Zamasu woke to the sound of obnoxious coughing coming from his comrade’s room, followed by a couple sneezes.  _ He seriously caught an illness?  _ The shinjin scoffed before stretching out his slender arms, burying his face into the sheets. He groaned as he sat up, rubbing his eyes as he continued to stretch. 

The kaioshin squinted his sleep-filled eyes as he reached out for his purple under shirt; pulling it on and leaving the buttons open. He eventually rose from the bed after staring into space for a few minutes, making his way towards the Saiyan’s bedroom door. Black’s coughing increased in volume as Zamasu wandered closer, his pale green hand gripping onto the doorknob. 

Zamasu opened the door, revealing an extremely feverish saiyan covered in blankets and surrounded by used tissues. “Black… What the hell happened?!” The kaioshin exclaimed as he rushed over to the tyrant, placing the back of his palm on Black’s scolding hot forehead. “You’re hot.”

“Thank you.” A strained chuckle escaped Black before he broke into a coughing fit.

“Stop being an ass, Black.” Zamasu scolded the Saiyan’s witty remark, “How did you get sick?” The shinjin sat next to the bedridden saiyan - a few centimetres distance between them.

“It all started after you came back from seeing Trunks,” Black began as he sat up, resting his head against the headboard. “You infected me.”

Zamasu was slightly offended by Black’s explanation, “Are you implying that a  _ God  _ such as me gave you a disease?” He huffed as he folded his arms, angrily looking away from him.

“Calm down, Zamasu.” Black sighed as his free arm wrapped around Zamasu’s waist, pulling him into his chest. “You stress about everything.” He rested his head on top of Zamasu’s, taking in his fresh scent.

Zamasu tensed up at first, his breathing hitched as he felt Black’s warm mouth against his neck that bristled at contact. “Black…” The kaioshin’s tone had a mix of confusion and warning before he instantly melted into the Saiyan’s touch; his muscles relaxing as a wave of sleep came over him. 

He glanced up at Black, who had already fallen asleep, snoring and drooling on the shinjin.

—————————————————————

The underground bunker’s pipes dripped and the sound of others reverberated whilst dim flames hoisted in metal barrels lit up the area. 

The group’s footsteps were audible as they continued to head towards Trunks’ sleeping chamber. Goku carried Vegeta over his shoulder, being extra cautious of his wounds. The half breed walked alongside Mai - who was clutching hold onto a shotgun. Vegeta’s blood dripped from his torso onto the floor, and onto Goku’s Gi. 

“We’re here,” Trunks announced as he opened a pair of juniper curtains, revealing the remaining survivors sat in groups. Slight coughing was heard - as well as crying - whilst the group passed through the resistance.

“Commander Trunks!” A soldier greeted, holding out his hand. “We thought you weren’t going to make it.” The man admitted nervously, almost expecting Trunks to take some form of offence. 

Trunks laughed awkwardly before turning to face the others, “Goku, give father a senzu.” 

“Come on, Vegeta.” The tall saiyan rested the other onto the tainted sheets, pulling out a small brown bag from his blue sash. He rested himself on the mattress, lifting Vegeta onto his lap before placing the green bean into his mouth. 

It took a few moments for Vegeta to chew and swallow - due to his brutally wounded self. Once he managed, his eyes flickered open to meet Goku’s innocent and child-like gaze. “Kakarot?” He asked groggily as he sat up.

“Are you okay, Veg-”

“I’m fine!” He hoarsely spat as he swatted away the hand that attempted to comfort him. The small saiyan abruptly pulled himself out of the other’s hold, scowling at him in the process. “You were getting too carried away, idiot.”

“Carried away…?” Goku tilted his head in confusion as his finger tapped his chin whilst he glanced at the ceiling before looking back at Vegeta. “What do you mean? I was just tryin’ to help...” 

“Never mind.” He scoffed before rolling over onto his side - his back facing the other. 

After an uncomfortably long silence, Trunks entered through the shamrock curtains, feeling the awkward atmosphere as he walked over to the edge of the mattress.

“Is father okay?” Trunks asked as he looked at Goku - who was focused on Vegeta.

“He’s fine,” Goku sighed, “But he’s just being grumpy old Vegeta as usual.” The taller saiyan glared at Vegeta - who only grunted in response - before looking back at Trunks.

—————————————————————

The saiyan tyrant groaned as he stretched out - his face sinking into the pillow. Black could feel his head starting to throb whilst he struggled to breathe out of his clogged-up nose. He sat up as he erupted a loud sneeze; almost frightening Zamasu when he entered holding a steamy bowl of soup. 

“You almost gave me a heart attack,” The shinjin spat dramatically, walking over to a wooden chair that rested at the side of the bed. 

Black sniffled, attempting to wipe his nose with his sleeve before Zamasu pulled his arm away. “Use this,” He gestured to the miniature box of tissues he held. “Only the filthiest of mortals taint their clothes with mucus.” The kaioshin spoke as he watched his other self blow his nose.

“What’s that?” Black queried as he gestured to the soup.

“It’s chicken noodle soup to help you feel better,” Zamasu picked up the bowl and handed it to the doppelganger - which he hesitantly took.

“So, this is supposed to  _ magically  _ make me feel better?” Black mused as he watched the kai rub his temples in annoyance.

“Bastard,” He mumbled under his breath, “Just eat the soup.” Zamasu whined before grabbing his teacup from the oak side table. 

Black chuckled at his partner’s easily irritable personality before indulging into his soup, slurping the noodles as he watched the kaioshin be deep in his thoughts -  _ He’s probably monologuing again… _

Zamasu was looking down at his knees as he stared into the teacup, watching the still tea water. He glanced up and his face flushed rose when he noticed his other self staring at him. “...stop it.” The shinjin’s voice was quiet.

“Have I always been this beautiful when focused?” Black softly spoke, leaning closer towards the bereft and flustered shinjin. “My eyes were so fierce… We truly are such gifted gods, the most perfect existence in the universe.”

“If we’re so perfect, why do you no longer go by your true name?” Zamasu asked as he leaned closer - their noses almost touching. 

Black placed the empty bowl on the side before resting his hands on the shinjin’s thighs, slowly kneading the soft material of the shinjin’s clothes. “Because I prefer my other name.” He purred before leaning into Zamasu’s ear, “And I love the way you say it, my dear counterpart.” Black toyed with the kai’s Potara before pressing his forehead against Zamasu’s. 

Zamasu laced his fingers with the Saiyan’s, gripping tightly at his hand. “What are we even doing just now, Black?” The shinjin’s shyness was slowly becoming visible. It wasn’t the first time Black had gotten so close and intimate with him, but he still couldn’t help feel a little bit on edge. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Zamas.” The tyrant’s voice just now was calming for the kaioshin.

“Why do you call me that?” 

“Because, Zamas…it suits you.” Black smirked before pecking his other self on the lips. He couldn’t deny the adorable way Zamasu’s eyes crossed whenever he was extremely close up to the kai’s face. 

There it was again. Black had kissed him  _ again.  _ The kaioshin couldn’t comprehend his partner’s  _ peculiar  _ behaviour - maybe his mortal body had managed to overpower his self-control?  _ But why do I enjoy it so much?  _ That’s probably the reason why he felt some form of repulsion. Zamasu  _ despised  _ that a simple  _ kiss _ from Black had almost stopped his breathing; his soft and warm lips left the shinjin wanting more. The kai couldn’t comprehend how a brutal warrior, such as Black, could have any soft part of him. It was refreshing to see the pleasant transition in his demeanour. 

“What’s wrong?” Black asked in the faintest whisper he could muster. “You’re so tense.” The saiyan brought the kai’s hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles. 

“...” Zamasu didn’t have a response; and even if he did, he still couldn’t say it. The thought of admitting how timid he felt would be utterly  _ embarrassing  _ to say the least… he wouldn’t hear the end of it.

Black could read Zamasu’s face like a book - it was his former face after all so of course he could depict the other’s emotion so easily. The myriad of nervousness, lust, embarrassment and slight fear in his eyes baffled the doppelgänger. “Why is a god such as you nervous? And why… why do you have to look so...  _ beguiling _ when you are?” The tyrant couldn’t get enough of the shinjin’s silver eyes contacting his own. 

“I think you should get some rest,” Zamasu swallowed as he distanced himself from Black - his flushed body was overheating from the kiss alone. “Sleeping should help make you feel better.” The kaioshin kissed the saiyan once more before exiting his room, taking the empty bowl with him. 

Black flopped back onto the pillows, staring at the oak ceiling. He sighed before his fingers traced his lips, tingling as they came in contact with the place that Zamasu’s lips had touched. 

_ Once I regain my health, I’m going to show you so much pleasure that you’ll be screaming for more… _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it’s taking me a while to update multi-chapter fics 🥲


End file.
